Change Islands Reflections from the Old Man IN the Sea

                                                 St. Margaret's Anglican Church, Change Islands 2022

 We know that the whole creation has been groaning together as it suffers together the pains of labour, and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. 

Romans 8:22-23

We have returned from two wonderful weeks in Newfoundland and for those of you who are cynical about the reality of miracles, Air Canada got us to Gander just about on time, and back to Ottawa a bit early. Our suitcase arrived with us on each leg of the journey.

Once again we spent time on Change Islands, adjacent to Fogo Island off the northeast coast of the province and accessible by a ferry service which alleges to have a schedule although it is regularly irregular. Other than a couple of day trips to Fogo by ferry we stayed on the islands.

 There was a time when the fishery supported upwards of 1500 people but the most recent census lists 184 residents and the majority are getting up in age. This Fall there are seven school children while five years ago it was double that number. 

We have friends on Change Islands, folk we first got to know when we were fresh-faced mainlanders who arrived on an outport pastoral charge across the bay. We were taken over for a visit by members of one of my five congregations and we've been going back intermittently for more than 40 years. 

We love the wild beauty of these two adjoined islands and ramble along the coastline. This time we swam in the ocean, twice, and it was...bracing! We revelled in the Milky Way and a brief glimpse of the Northern Lights

                                                            Old Man IN the Sea -- Change Islands

There are four churches on Change Islands, a ridiculous remnant of sectarianism in such a small community. Since we were last there, before the pandemic, the United Church gave up the ghost. There is now a scrawled sign on the door saying CLOSED! and the tiny congregation is trying to figure out what comes next, including how they will maintain their cemetery. 

Our closest friend there is a feisty woman of 82 named Margaret who almost died of COVID and subsequent pneumonia, but her joie de vivre and wry sense of humour have revived. She may be the saint of St. Margaret's Anglican Church, working tirelessly with the small group of long-time members to keep going. The interior of the building inspires awe and when the wind blows, which is much of the time, it creaks and sighs as though the Holy Spirit is groaning within in. When we were there three years ago we could walk into the church at any time, day or night. The pandemic changed this and I had to ferret out a keyholder to get in. 

The Salvation Army (the Harmy) and the Pentecostals are also limping along with part-time ministry. How will they survive? The refusal to find creative solutions as the Body of Christ, to give birth to something new,  must grieve the groaning Spirit. 

We really want the best for these lovely people who realize that most aspects of a traditional way of life is slipping away. As we departed the folk we know asked if we will return next year and we certainly hope and pray we can go back. It does feel as though a bad flu season or another COVID wave could alter the congregational life of the islands forever. Sad, don't you think? 

                                Ruth enjoying the sunset on the cove where we stayed, Change Islands