Stories of parish renewal
from around the world.
“I Walked Out Free”: A Story from Canada
St. Joseph’s in Vanderhoof, Canada, is a small rural parish comprised of approximately 75 families. The community’s economy is supported by logging and farming.
Parish Priest, Fr. Pier, wears a lot of hats to keep things going. But when a parishioner gave him the book, “Divine Renovation: Bringing Your Parish from Maintenance to Mission,” he was struck by its call to mission. He built a small team of volunteer lay leaders – because there was no money to hire any staff. He starting leading from a team and using a tool called Alpha that helps share the faith in a clear and simple way. They started small: a few parishioners praying by name for people in their lives who didn’t know Jesus. They ran Alpha, personally invited friends – anyone. They were nervous no one would come.
And then something happened.
People showed up.
St. Joseph’s in Vanderhoof, Canada, is a small rural parish comprised of approximately 75 families. The community’s economy is supported by logging and farming. Parish Priest, Fr. Pier, wears a lot of hats to keep things going. But when a parishioner gave him the book, "Divine Renovation: Bringing Your Parish from Maintenance to Mission," he was struck by its call to mission. He built a small team of volunteer lay leaders – because there was no money to hire any staff. He starting leading from a team and using a tool called Alpha that helps share the faith in a clear and simple way. They started small: a few parishioners praying by name for people in their lives who didn’t know Jesus. They ran Alpha, personally invited friends – anyone. They were nervous no one would come. And then something happened. People showed up.
In 2015, still in seminary, Father Damian Ryan heard about a new ministry out of Canada called Divine Renovation. Later, he picked up the book "Divine Renovation: Bringing Your Parish from Maintenance to Mission." He recalls thinking, “WOW, this priest gets it, he totally gets the reality of priesthood.” He was relieved that the book was addressing the very real problems of the modern Church while still being grounded in Catholic Theology. Father Damian says, “reading the book felt like ‘this is going to equip me.’” He started getting ideas for when he would be a priest. In the summer of 2017 as an assistant priest, Father Damian interned with Father James at Saint Benedict Parish in Halifax. He left encouraged and focused on the future. But then he became a parish priest. The reality of leading a parish hit him like a ton of bricks.
When I was training for priesthood and close to ordination, I spent some time in Napier with an older priest who was preparing to leave ministry as I was preparing to enter it. Tim Hannigan, one of the last Irish priests in NZ had become a firm friend and mentor to me. Well after he had departed this life, I remember returning to his grave for a chat - to ask him what was to become of me. I was struggling and I asked for his help, his prayers. I felt lost, I was depressed, racked with anxiety, I guessed I had probably misread my priestly calling - I didn’t realize it was so crushing. There I was in a cemetery; I was in Ezekiel’s valley of dry bones. At a loss for what could be done in a parish, I figured that life in a monastery might be my best option to run to. Parish life was doing me in. And then, one day, I heard a message that was to change my priestly ministry and give me hope.
Not long ago, I received a letter from a parishioner that pierced me deeply. He wrote bluntly: “I don’t want to be part of a moribund parish.” I never heard of the word moribund, so I did not initially bother. Then later on, I deeply reflected on the word. Moribund basically means dying. He actually told me in that letter, he did not want to be part of St Kilian's because it's dying. The word hit me hard.
St. Joseph’s in Vanderhoof, Canada, is a small rural parish comprised of approximately 75 families. The community’s economy is supported by logging and farming. Parish Priest, Fr. Pier, wears a lot of hats to keep things going. But when a parishioner gave him the book, "Divine Renovation: Bringing Your Parish from Maintenance to Mission," he was struck by its call to mission. He built a small team of volunteer lay leaders – because there was no money to hire any staff. He starting leading from a team and using a tool called Alpha that helps share the faith in a clear and simple way. They started small: a few parishioners praying by name for people in their lives who didn’t know Jesus. They ran Alpha, personally invited friends – anyone. They were nervous no one would come. And then something happened. People showed up.
In 2015, still in seminary, Father Damian Ryan heard about a new ministry out of Canada called Divine Renovation. Later, he picked up the book "Divine Renovation: Bringing Your Parish from Maintenance to Mission." He recalls thinking, “WOW, this priest gets it, he totally gets the reality of priesthood.” He was relieved that the book was addressing the very real problems of the modern Church while still being grounded in Catholic Theology. Father Damian says, “reading the book felt like ‘this is going to equip me.’” He started getting ideas for when he would be a priest. In the summer of 2017 as an assistant priest, Father Damian interned with Father James at Saint Benedict Parish in Halifax. He left encouraged and focused on the future. But then he became a parish priest. The reality of leading a parish hit him like a ton of bricks.
When I was training for priesthood and close to ordination, I spent some time in Napier with an older priest who was preparing to leave ministry as I was preparing to enter it. Tim Hannigan, one of the last Irish priests in NZ had become a firm friend and mentor to me. Well after he had departed this life, I remember returning to his grave for a chat - to ask him what was to become of me. I was struggling and I asked for his help, his prayers. I felt lost, I was depressed, racked with anxiety, I guessed I had probably misread my priestly calling - I didn’t realize it was so crushing. There I was in a cemetery; I was in Ezekiel’s valley of dry bones. At a loss for what could be done in a parish, I figured that life in a monastery might be my best option to run to. Parish life was doing me in. And then, one day, I heard a message that was to change my priestly ministry and give me hope.
Not long ago, I received a letter from a parishioner that pierced me deeply. He wrote bluntly: “I don’t want to be part of a moribund parish.” I never heard of the word moribund, so I did not initially bother. Then later on, I deeply reflected on the word. Moribund basically means dying. He actually told me in that letter, he did not want to be part of St Kilian's because it's dying. The word hit me hard.
