It wasn’t very long before I was born that my family had disconnected from a Church home. Around that same time, there was a series of assaults targeting women around my mother’s age and type. My father’s work kept him away from home for extended periods of time. For mom’s safety the decision was made to relocate to a smaller area further into the suburbs. Thus I was born and my mom quickly found her new home at All Saints Anglican Church.
All Saints was small, a congregation of the mid-century boom. It was a simple A-frame Church which practiced a high churchmanship. My mother quickly joined the choir, and fondly remembers walking into the Narthex on Sunday mornings and handing me off to the first “church lady” whose arms weren’t full of hymn books or prayer books. My mom regales me the many hours of choir rehearsal, worship, and coffee hour wherein she had no idea where I was and wasn’t worried. Mom knew I was with the family. Since we were new to the Congregation and my father was away, many people assumed that I was actually Anne Mews’ child, as she seemed to take care of me most at church.
From the choir stalls mom would watch me bob from Gertrude Starling’s arms, to Marguerite Hellyer’s lap, and then watch the church custodian, Mister Brown, chasing me out from the baptistery area and up the aisle on his hands and knees while I sought out my mom in the quire. On choir rehearsal night, I would be left with the ladies in the basement playing euchre or baking for the next Auxiliary fundraiser. This place was as much home as my own living room or my grandmother’s kitchen. There was no threat to be found here, and an entire village of doting mothers, and caring fathers waiting to feed me, clean me, or tend any other need. My mother had not found a church, she had found a family, and we had been wholly adopted, faults and all.
Growing up in the pews, as opposed to the Nursery, I fell in love with the liturgy from a very young age. Once I could evade my caregivers, I quickly found my way behind the Sanctuary to admire the movements of the liturgy, the embroidery of the vestments, and the precision of the Acolytes. The head server, John Fern, noticed my appreciation for the liturgy very early on. John reached out to my mom and inquired about my joining the Server’s Guild, to which my mother assured him that he would have to ask me. At three-and-a-half years old, I became All Saints’ youngest ever Acolyte. A role that I understand I took on with great enthusiasm, not that I have any recollection of that time. By the time I was 5 I was a fully trained Acolyte (though I could not yet hold the processional cross), no longer a lowly boat boy, and by the time I was 9, I was second server, still serving under John as head server (still no processional cross).
John taught me everything that I know, and I still count him as one of my most important mentors in my life. From the holy choreography, to Church History, and symbolism, my foundation in the Church was firmly grounded in John’s leadership, kindness, and the hospitality of he and his partner. These two men are, in my opinion, two of the classiest men I have ever or will ever meet in my life. I credit their witness in our worshipping community as a cornerstone of our church being one of great acceptance, open mindedness, and slow marching towards more progressive ideals.
Being an Altar Boy would quickly grow into being a part of my identity. My friends at school almost unanimously called me Father Norm, and would ask me questions about my faith journey. Many were confused about my love of the Church, as their own upbringing in the Church was so much more untenable, backwards, and lacking in values that we could adapt to even at a young age. I grew up in the early 2000s, there was an equal portion of my friends and classmates who were raised in the Christian Church as there were friends who had no religious upbringing or an upbringing that was not Christian at all. This was a challenge for me as I was very invested in my Church. I found a crossover to the secular world however, service. My faith had taught me devotion, but it had also taught me about service to a community. This was a gateway for me to find legs in a secular world.