On the brink of a new season
The First Letter

Alexander Mills • Pastor
May 21, 2023

4 Minute Read

Rebecca and I asked each other a question the other night – what’s one thing you’ve learned in the last year?

It’s an odd time of year to be asking that question I know, there’s no snow on the ground or fireworks overhead. I just recently joined her by stepping into a new decade however, so we’ve been doing a bit of reflecting on the decade behind and looking ahead to the decade before us.

Her answer was simple. “Everything is seasonal”, she said plainly. “Nothing lasts forever, and for everything there is a season”.

It’s not hard to perceive the burgeoning season around us. Lilacs are blooming, and some of your sinuses are doing a blooming of sorts in response. The birds are singing, and maybe some of you are finding your song again too. This season in our little corner of Niagara is splendid, albeit short. The tulips have already traded their brilliant tops for wilted bottoms, the first preview of summer’s relentless heat.

Everything is seasonal, it’s true. The rhythms of the earth confess that too.

Our springtime bulbs wouldn’t burst with colour if it wasn’t for the rest they receive under winter’s snow. In our Christian community, we’re drawing to the end of a season as well and entering another that will lead us into summer.

This past Sunday was the seventh Sunday in Easter, the last before Pentecost. This coming Sunday will mark the end of a 6-month journey that we began on the first Sunday in Advent. These seasons serve to help us mark time through the course of the year by telling the story of Jesus Christ. We have a secular calendar to coordinate our lives within a secular age, and we have a sacred calendar to form our lives through the gospel story. Beginning before Christmas and ending after Easter, this season is drawing to a close.

The season ahead of us moves at a different pace. Just like the grass slows due to summer’s heat, so we also slow during these next few months of ordinary time as it’s commonly known. That’s not to say we become complacent in our rhythms or trajectory. It is only to agree that everything is seasonal, and this next season is rather ordinary. Advent will come again in due time.

There are some folks in our community who are stepping into new seasons as well that I wanted to tell you about.

In addition to welcoming sweet Hazel into the world just 12 weeks ago, Jess has also been busy completing her fourth degree in seven years, graduating this past week from Niagara University with her Master of Science in Education.

Kayla’s dad, Chris, has been battling cancer on and off for the last couple of years. He just recently got approved for a new chemo treatment, and he begins that this Thursday.

Avarie, Anugraha, and Vienna have been in Nepal for the last few weeks visiting family. They’re enjoying 5 weeks there, and they’ve been busy working with orphans, introducing Vienna to a new country and culture, and hiking any mountain top that they can climb.

Rebecca and I are 13 weeks along with the next addition to our family. Talk about being on the brink of a new season! We’re thrilled to be growing our family a little larger, and we’re thankful to have a church family to which we belong as well.

I hope to see you on Sunday, the last Sunday of this season and a preview of the next. My heart is full of expectation for what God has in store for us.

Grace and peace,
Pastor Alexander

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From this Collection: Letters To The Congregation
April 21, 2026 • 3 Minute Read
How to see God
My dad takes a conservative approach to giving and using nicknames. For the most part, he’ll call you by your given name. That was my experience as a child with one exception – he affectionately called me Farsight. Born from the imagination of C.S. Lewis into the land of Narnia, Farsight was a talking eagle who served as a messenger to the King. True to his nature and name, his eyesight was spectacular. He saw what others couldn’t. I guess I garnered the name thanks to my ability to notice. The deer on the field edge, the chickadee perched, the missing lego over there. By nature it seems, I’m often able to see what others can’t. Yet here’s the truth – I’m not eagle-eyed. My ability to see is no more than 20/20, in fact without my glasses, it’s much less than that. I’m convinced, however, that seeing—and more importantly, noticing—is a nurtured ability. It’s practiced and perfected. It’s work. The poet says, “to pay attention is our endless and proper work.” The priest agrees: “My only prayer practice is attention.” There’s a sacred discipline to the art of noticing. Paying attention to the budding branch, the singing bird, the forming storm, is no doubt an act of spiritual practice. This act of noticing makes an opportunity to at least acknowledge God, and at best encounter him. Worship him. See him, hear him, smell him, touch him, taste him. Worship him. And yes, this takes practice. It’s not hyperbole to say that there are more voices and visions vying for our attention now more than there ever have been, so this work may be more difficult than ever as well. Hard work is good work, beloved. Begin here with an intentional choice today: go for a walk, get a house plant, look up from your phone. gaze at the gluten structure of a piece of bread, think about your fingerprints, look up from your phone. listen to a bird song, listen to a secular song, look up from your phone. Look up, look around, look above and below. Open your eyes to see that there’s evidence of resurrection everywhere you look. But you have to look. God can be and is revealed in all manner of ordinary things, especially created things. There are reflections of his goodness in just about every corner, crack, and crevasse if you’re looking for him. May we be formed into a people who are always looking, noticing, and behold God wherever he may be found. Grace and peace, Pastor Alexander

Alexander Mills

Pastor

August 21, 2023 • 3 Minute Read
God loves you. So what?
I grew up in a home that had a tune to it. My dad was mostly at the helm of the sounds of our scene, whether it was at home, in the car, or anywhere in between - there was always music playing (and if it wasn’t playing, he was singing or humming his own). Some of his favourites were Rich Mullins and Keith Green, some of mine were Anberlin and TobyMac. So I guess I come by it honestly, having a home of my own now that rarely sits in silence. In the evenings its spinning vinyl that sings, but more often than not it’s something streaming over the interconnected network of networks and through the TV (I don’t think my dad could have imagined that this is how we’d be listening to music nowadays). Some of my favourites this week are Sam McCabe and Jon Batiste. Although most of the music in our home is streamed, some of it is still sung. For the last two years we’ve been singing a handful of songs with Asher at bedtime—the doxology, The Blessing, I Love You Lord—to name a few. One of the first ones he ever sang along to though is one that most of us are likely familiar with. “Jesus loves me, this I know…” For a while in his infancy he’d chime in on the me’s, so’s, and “strong”. It was as if his vocal cords were tethered to our heart strings. We swooned. Now as he’s getting older and his vocabulary is growing in step with his personality, the song has taken a bit of a turn. “Turn on Jesus loves me song!” I hear from the backseat before I can engage the car in drive. I turn it on. He sings, “Jesus loves you this I know…” Jesus loves you. For the last couple weeks he has routinely dropped the “me” and exchanged it for “you”. I’m not naive enough to believe that he is changing the words intentionally to convey some deep theological truth. He’s two, his brain is just barely online, and he has simply jumbled up the song. But this morning as he sang his scrambled song, I thought of you, and I just wanted to remind you that God does love you. I hope it’s not the first time you’re hearing that, and even if it’s not I hope you have the courage today to believe it. Rich Mullins famously said “I grew up hearing everyone tell me ‘God loves you'. I would say ‘big deal, God loves everybody. That don't make me special! That just proves that God ain't got no taste’”. I love Rich and I like his music (thanks, Dad), but that’s a view too cynical for me. God loves everybody, but He also loves you. You’re a chosen, cherished, child of God, and He’s not stuck with you. He has set a place at His table just for you, and He says come. Take your seat. Eat, drink, and be merry. So go ahead into your day empowered by the knowledge that God loves you. Grace and peace, Pastor Alexander

Alexander Mills

Pastor

August 1, 2023 • 3 Minute Read
Our commitment to community
Sometime in early 2019 a headline in the local newspaper tugged our hearts into action. “Niagara Falls in Desperate Need of Respite Care” it read, reporting on the urgent need for foster homes in the city. Respite (or short term) homes were of particular demand to help meet the emergent needs of newborns coming into care due to the increasing crisis of opioid use. That was the thread that towed our heart strings towards opening our home to foster care. Fast forward a few seasons, dozens of hours of training, and hundreds of pieces of paper work to Mary’s parent’s backyard in the late summer. In unconventional fashion and in complete secret, our friends and family threw us a shower. Rebecca and I had only been married for a couple of years, we had no kids of our own yet, and we had just moved into our first home. Our community gleaned that we had a lot of the same needs that expecting parents would, so they surrounded us with a shower as if we were welcoming our own. We received diapers, toys, and clothes, amongst a bounty of other things to prepare us for the journey ahead. What I remember from that day wasn’t the gifts though, it was the commitment that our community made. Much like when we dedicate children in our church, our community stood on the brink of this new season with us and said “we’re here for you too”. I believed them then, and they’re proving it now. Jump forward in time again and Rebecca and I have a toddler of our own, another on the way, and a life that is full to the brim. We’ve harboured countless children in our home since that shower in the summer. This week, the phone rang again. It’s rarely easy to say yes, but the good thing to do is often the difficult one. We said yes to a 9 month old little boy and for a week our house has been stretching at the seams. I’m writing this with that boy sleeping in my arms, and two of those aforementioned friends are currently walking out our front door. “Want us to bring pizza over for dinner tonight?” they asked earlier in the day, inviting themselves over with dinner in hand. We shared a simple and hectic meal - the adults laughed, the babies cried - and from across the table I saw Jordan and Jessica doing exactly what they pledged to do for us all those years ago. It was a promise fulfilled in a pizza. It was love, grace, and community embodied. We had an unspoken need this week and our friends perceived it. You’ll surely have a need that I hope to meet for you. This is the commitment we’ve made to each other in this community, and we are bound by the love of God that is building us up into his body. So if you’re reading this letter, consider this my affirmation of my commitment to you. I hope it also fans the flame of community life and love in your heart as well. Grace and peace, Pastor Alexander

Alexander Mills

Pastor

July 17, 2023 • 3 Minute Read
The portrait of a praying woman
It’s rumoured that she was younger than 8 years old when her parents dedicated her to a Benedictine monastery on the westside of Germany. There she would live and grow in the grace of God, leading her fellow nuns into the Light through music, visions, and connection to the earth. Her name was Hildegard of Bingen, she died in 1179, and her portrait hangs in our kitchen by the back door. I bought her portrait as a gift to Rebecca earlier this year as winter was melting into spring. We hung it by the back door intentionally, because the backdoor leads us to our garden. Saint Hildegard reminds me of Rebecca in all sorts of ways, but especially in the way that she revered the cosmos and everything within it. She was a gardener, a forager, and a medical plant practitioner. She didn't want to simply visit this world but wanted to be fully in it, embracing the wonder and goodness of God's creation. "Glance at the sun,” Hildegard says. “See the moon and the stars. Gaze at the beauty of earth's greenings. Now think. What delight God gives to humankind with all these things. Who gives all these shining gifts, if not God?" That reads like a poem, doesn’t it? A Psalm, even? We’re practicing praying the Psalms as a community, beginning each one of our worship services by praying an entire poem together. The Psalms are the training ground for prayer, and so we’re learning how to pray. One Psalm at a time. Today, pray this Psalm of creation with me. If you’re reading this, you’re surely looking at a screen of some kind. So take a step outside or at the very least move yourself next to a window, behold the cosmos, and let us pray: Hallelujah! Praise God from heaven, praise him from the mountaintops; Praise him, all you his angels, praise him, all you his warriors, Praise him, sun and moon, praise him, you morning stars; Praise him, high heaven, praise him, heavenly rain clouds; Praise, oh let them praise the name of God—he spoke the word, and there they were! He set them in place from all time to eternity; He gave his orders, and that’s it! Praise God from earth, you sea dragons, you fathomless ocean deeps; Fire and hail, snow and ice, hurricanes obeying his orders; Mountains and all hills, apple orchards and cedar forests; Wild beasts and herds of cattle, snakes, and birds in flight; Earth’s kings and all races, leaders and important people, Robust men and women in their prime, and yes, greybeards and little children. Let them praise the name of God—it’s the only Name worth praising. His radiance exceeds anything in earth and sky; he’s built a monument—his very own people! Israel’s children, intimate friends of God. Hallelujah! Psalm 148, The Message Translation Grace and peace, Pastor Alexander

Alexander Mills

Pastor

July 3, 2023 • 2 Minute Read
I didn't pray against the rain
It’s raining right now as I write this, as it has been since yesterday. The skies severely opened up above us this weekend as if the ground below us had its mouth agape in desperate need of hydration. Truthfully, that’s exactly why I couldn’t find a prayer to pray against the rain this weekend in anticipation of our church picnic - certainly I was outnumbered by the farmers praying for the exact opposite. Despite the weather, we had an absolutely splendid Sunday this weekend at our annual church picnic. It’s a joy to watch kids be kids, to connect with each other casually, and to enjoy the little corner of land that we steward at the corner of Concession 7 and Queenston Road. The rain was actually a pleasant balm of sorts, keeping us cool and lubricating the slide on the bouncy castle. The annual picnic serves as a mile marker for us - summer is surely upon us. My favourite season is whichever one we’re currently in, but I know that many of you are most fond of this one. Summer is full of all kinds of glories like fresh strawberries and peaches later, family camping trips and simply staycations. It’s a season defined by sunshine, rest, and play. During the summer season as many of us are engaged in resting, playing, et cetera, our weekend gatherings tend to take on a different complexion. They are often smaller, shorter, and simpler. That’s good, too. No less glorious than any other Sunday. It’s perfectly permissible to relax into the rhythm of the summer while still staying connected to community. So enjoy your summer, practice justice, love mercy. Walk in the grace of God and keep your eyes open to see glories revealed in every step you take. Each Sunday we will continue to re-gather and re-member. We’ll see you at the corner of Concession 7 and Queenston Road. It looks like the heavens are almost done drenching the earth for today, and the forecast for the rest of the week is looking bright. It’s my prayer that whatever God is watering in your soul will soon bloom to life in the sun that comes after the rain. Grace and peace, Pastor Alexander

Alexander Mills

Pastor

June 19, 2023 • 3 Minute Read
On prayer, honeybees, and petrichor
It’s odd, becoming a parent. In the job description is the daunting task of dreaming up an infinite list of things to teach your children (I say infinite because it grows in length each day), and the even taller task of ordering that list in a sequence of importance. What’s more important - teaching Asher to be kind or to brush his teeth? To look both ways before crossing the street or to pick flowers for his mom? Some days we work on kindness. Some days his teeth are clean. Near the top of my list of important things to teach our kids is the practice of prayer. That sounds like a tall task in and of itself, but maybe I can help alleviate some pressure with this - prayer is not a skill to be mastered, but a practice to be practiced. So that’s how I teach Asher, we practice. He’s learning by rhythm and repetition, as every morning as we turn into his daycare neighbourhood I turn off whatever we’re listening to, look at him in the mirror, and say “ok, it’s time to say a prayer”. Our recipe is simple - we practice thanksgiving. I begin by thanking God for the day, his mercy, and then a few things that come to my mind. He usually adds a few thanksgivings from the backseat like “balls, Aunt Roo Roo and Aunt Ray Ray, or meat sticks”. In Jesus’ name we pray, “amen!”. Henri Nouwen wisely confesses that “I am beginning to see that much praying is grieving”, and yes, I believe that to be true. I am beginning to see however that much of praying is thanksgiving. In fact, thanksgiving is a prayer enough. So, here’s ten things I’m thankful for today: Friends that turn into family The work of honey bees Mercy The way my dad hugs me every time I see him Petrichor (a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather) The song “I want to serve God” by Sam McCabe The privilege to steward a little parcel of land The wisdom of elders The wonder of children The baby dedication of Mary into the family of faith this coming Sunday Enter his presence with the password: “Thank you!” Make yourselves at home, talking praise. Thank him. Worship him. For God is sheer beauty, all-generous in love, loyal always and ever. Psalm 100 Grace and peace, Pastor Alexander

Alexander Mills

Pastor

June 5, 2023 • 3 Minute Read
I met God the other night
I met God the other night while I was washing my car. I made the mistake of buying a black car. In fact, we have two black cars. It’s not an objective mistake in the sense that black cars are worse than any other colour car by any meaningful metric. The nature of black paint however is that it almost never looks clean. Any spot of water, dirt, or pollen (of which there has been plenty lately) seems to be accentuated on a black canvas, and frankly is a glaring sore to my eye. That’s just me, that’s how I’m wired. You likely don’t care too much if your car is spotless or not and that’s good for you - sincerely, it’s good for you. I’m wired differently though, but thankfully I’m also inclined to enjoy washing my car by hand. So I took a look at the forecast to see how long my labour would be worth, and with nothing but clear skies in sight I set out to wash the car. Asher was asleep, the evening was clear and cool, it was serene. With supplies in hand I made my move towards the driveway and there was God, waiting to met me. There’s a monkish way of moving through the world called liber mundi - “the world as a book”. It’s a way of living that moves slowly through the created cosmos, with eyes and ears open and attentive to see a story revealed through creation, as if it were a book to read. For us Christians, we believe that the world is the Lord’s, and it is a very reflection of his image. A revelation of sorts. God met me in the driveway in the stillness of being dedicated to one singular task, outside of the office and the home, and in the quiet of the evening. Without any external output or stimulus (and even without my AirPods in my ears plugging up my senses from the world around me), I was able to perceive and receive the peace of God while kneeling in soapy water on the tarmac. I’m not great at this way of living, and I wouldn’t even go as far as suggest that I’m good at it - but I’m trying. I’m trying to see glory in potato flowers and dandelions. I’m hoping to move on my feet and my pedals more often than I do on rubber powered by cylinders. I’m attempting to listen to less information (podcasts, sermons, etc.) and listen more to friends, family, and foes. I’m learning that the world is a book. I want to read it. Avarie, Anugraha, and Vienna begin their journey home from Nepal today. Pray for them whenever you remember them, and look forward to welcoming them home on Sunday! Grace and peace, Pastor Alexander

Alexander Mills

Pastor

Currently Reading
May 21, 2023 • 4 Minute Read
On the brink of a new season
Rebecca and I asked each other a question the other night – what’s one thing you’ve learned in the last year? It’s an odd time of year to be asking that question I know, there’s no snow on the ground or fireworks overhead. I just recently joined her by stepping into a new decade however, so we’ve been doing a bit of reflecting on the decade behind and looking ahead to the decade before us. Her answer was simple. “Everything is seasonal”, she said plainly. “Nothing lasts forever, and for everything there is a season”. It’s not hard to perceive the burgeoning season around us. Lilacs are blooming, and some of your sinuses are doing a blooming of sorts in response. The birds are singing, and maybe some of you are finding your song again too. This season in our little corner of Niagara is splendid, albeit short. The tulips have already traded their brilliant tops for wilted bottoms, the first preview of summer’s relentless heat. Everything is seasonal, it’s true. The rhythms of the earth confess that too. Our springtime bulbs wouldn’t burst with colour if it wasn’t for the rest they receive under winter’s snow. In our Christian community, we’re drawing to the end of a season as well and entering another that will lead us into summer. This past Sunday was the seventh Sunday in Easter, the last before Pentecost. This coming Sunday will mark the end of a 6-month journey that we began on the first Sunday in Advent. These seasons serve to help us mark time through the course of the year by telling the story of Jesus Christ. We have a secular calendar to coordinate our lives within a secular age, and we have a sacred calendar to form our lives through the gospel story. Beginning before Christmas and ending after Easter, this season is drawing to a close. The season ahead of us moves at a different pace. Just like the grass slows due to summer’s heat, so we also slow during these next few months of ordinary time as it’s commonly known. That’s not to say we become complacent in our rhythms or trajectory. It is only to agree that everything is seasonal, and this next season is rather ordinary. Advent will come again in due time. There are some folks in our community who are stepping into new seasons as well that I wanted to tell you about. In addition to welcoming sweet Hazel into the world just 12 weeks ago, Jess has also been busy completing her fourth degree in seven years, graduating this past week from Niagara University with her Master of Science in Education. Kayla’s dad, Chris, has been battling cancer on and off for the last couple of years. He just recently got approved for a new chemo treatment, and he begins that this Thursday. Avarie, Anugraha, and Vienna have been in Nepal for the last few weeks visiting family. They’re enjoying 5 weeks there, and they’ve been busy working with orphans, introducing Vienna to a new country and culture, and hiking any mountain top that they can climb. Rebecca and I are 13 weeks along with the next addition to our family. Talk about being on the brink of a new season! We’re thrilled to be growing our family a little larger, and we’re thankful to have a church family to which we belong as well. I hope to see you on Sunday, the last Sunday of this season and a preview of the next. My heart is full of expectation for what God has in store for us. Grace and peace, Pastor Alexander

Alexander Mills

Pastor