Outside my office window there is a stunning tree. Burnt-red, tall and thick, deep blue sky behind it, and on either side trees still bright green.

As we prepare to receive 50 new students at the College this semester, I am once again reminded that many, if not most of our students have been drawn to Wycliffe because of our evangelical commitments and the quality of our teaching, and not because of any denominational allegiance.

When my children were young, Valentine’s Day was hugely exciting. We made cookies with pink icing in heart shapes.

Some time ago I visited a church in which the sermon, delivered by a guest preacher, concluded with the sentence “If you do this you’ll be happy, and your neighbour will be happy.”

Like many of you, I spend the first week of the New Year going through my diary, trying to anticipate some of the challenges and opportunities the next twelve months will bring.

Over the past few weeks I have had several long conversations with pastors who seem dangerously close to burn-out. They’re worried because some 25 to 30 percent of their congregations haven’t returned to church following the easing of pandemic restrictions.

Many positive things can be said about the benefits of online education. While in-person classes were largely suspended over the last two years because of the pandemic, students did not have to suspend their lives or learning. Wycliffe students were still able to proceed in their programs.

Can a woman preach? Can women lead worship? Does God ordain authority for women in the church? It is a question that matters to me, as a woman and a priest in the Anglican church, now for more than 25 years. Greek points us toward an answer!

My dad was a “there-are-no-strangers-but-only-friends-I-haven’t-met-yet” kind of guy. He was disarmingly affable and could size up a situation that was full of flaws and point out what was good about it.

Just when we thought that we were about to survive the coronapocalypse, the Omicron variant appeared from the viral swamp and, like the tail of the Balrog, swept us from the victory podium.

The first time I encountered the term eating disorder I was about twelve and read a letter addressed to Dear Abby, a syndicated advice column published in many North American newspapers.

Eight years ago, our family moved into the heart of Toronto. One of the surprises that came with this move was being freed from my car; something I was completely dependent on while pastoring in suburbia. Now I was taking public transit every day as I travelled into Wycliffe College.

People think about theological colleges in different ways. To most, perhaps, they are simply schools, maybe professional schools, like the faculties of medicine or law or music.

Names are important in the Bible. From the time Adam named the animals in the creation story, to the revelation of God’s name in the Sinai desert, to the angelic naming of the holy child who is our Saviour. Names identify. Names personify. Names are intimate. Names awaken memory.

Today marks the centenary of the birth of John R.W. Stott (1921-2011). Identified by Time magazine in 2005 as one of the world’s “100 Most Influential People,” John R.W. Stott was a legendary figure in the modern global evangelical movement.

Where I grew up, in southern Pennsylvania, Groundhog Day was a big thing. For weeks before February 2, the papers, the broadcasters asked: would the groundhog—who had a name, Punxatawny Phil, from Punxatawny, Penn.—see his shadow?

Have you ever seen so many people so anxious to put something behind them? “Good riddance!” we exclaim to a year that saw 80 million people infected by a lethal virus that was the cause of widespread unemployment, isolation, and unprecedented governmental largesse.

THE NEW NORMAL IS NOT NORMAL. So read a sign held aloft by a protester who appears regularly on the north side of Queen’s Park.

Esther was one of many gracious life-long members of our church. A real salt-of-the-earth type, who with her husband had raised three kids to be successful, fully-launched adults. She was now thoroughly enjoying a bunch of grandkids, most of whom were already teenagers.