As I write this I am in Alexandria, Virginia attending a nine day conference on Small Church Ministry, offered through Virginia Theological Seminary; by the time you read this, Canada Day celebrations will be wrapped up.

The program that I am attending is fully funded through the generosity of the Lilly Foundation which is the philanthropic work of a major pharmaceutical company in the United States of America. I and St. Paul's, Shelburne were one of 150 applicants who were selected for 25 places in this program. I feel deep sense of privilege and gratitude to be here.

Among the other 24 churches represented, there are three other Canadians and there a folks from a variety of denominations, including, United Church of Christ, Disciples of Christ, Presbyterian, Episcopal (Anglican), United Methodist and Baptist. There are, too be sure, a number of differences and we have spent some time translating our various structures and polity for one another, there are also a tremendous number of similarities. Discussing our differences helps to expand our ideas and gives us new insights and ways of looking at things. Celebrating our similarities helps us each to feel a little less alone in the world of church.

Small churches (those with less than 125 members) are far more common then we think and we have much to share with one another and a lot to share with larger churches and with our denominational structures. It has been a tremendous blessing to be with these other ministers and pastors. We will all go home with a renewed sense of faithfulness and purpose and gratitude.

On Saturday we had some free time and I was able to go to the National Holocaust Museum and although I arrived too late to get into the main exhibit, I was able to see many other displays including a wall of tiles painted by one million school children throughout the States remembering the children that were killed in the holocaust.

After this, the most profound moment happened upon entering the "Hall of Remembrance".

This was a large open room with black marble walls, smooth granite floors and small white votive candles flickering all around the outside wall of the room.

The room was silent and still. I was intensely aware of the deep, unspeakable and indescribable sorrow of millions upon millions of hearts ... those who died in the holocaust, those who remember them, and those whose live and continue to be touched by this atrocity. I sat weeping, silent tears rolling down my cheeks, silent prayer rising from my heart. I looked up, and on the wall across from me, high above the bench was a quote from the Hebrew scriptures, which said, "What have you done? The blood of your brother cries out to me from the ground." And although I know this pass age comes from the story of Cain and Abel, one does one does not need to know the depth of that story, to hear the anguish of those words, the truth of those words and the current relevancy of those words ... not just in terms of war violence but domestic violence, poverty, disease and injustice of every kind.

I left that holy, sacred and solemn place in some way very different then how I had arrived. I will be reflecting on this experience for a long time to come as it shapes my actions, my words and my faith.

On Sunday, I had another faith shaping experi- ence as I attended worship at the National Episcopal Cathedral in Washington, DC.

This is the most magnificent church building I have ever entered, but as amazing as that was, I was most moved by the words of the preacher. He was a guest preacher from a partner church of the Cathedral.

It was "DC Day" at the National Cathedral. A day when the church prays in particular of the city of Washington DC, for its citizens and its leaders. One of those prayers is a prayer of unity leading to peace and tolerance. I heard an echo in my heart to my experience the day before. The preacher was from a Baptist congregation on the other side of the city from the Cathedral.

A part of the city where poverty and crime are rampant, where ethnicity and gender are a dividing factor.

This preacher told about some changes in his community and in his church with respect to females in church leadership and with respect to the place of gays and lesbians in society and in the church. It was bold and clear and, for me, completely unexpected. As I learned later, he and his congregation have "paid dearly" for choosing this path.

After further reflection, I realized that perhaps I should not have been so surprised that a Biblically faithful Baptist pastor was called to remind us to love one another and seek justice for all, because this stance often leads to conflict and struggle and eventually transformation and change.

His sermon not only challenged my sterotypes of Baptists but also challenged me to act more boldly with respect to injustice in the world and in the community I serve.

So, I will be returning to Shelburne on the day after Canada Day with a renewed sense of faith and hope, in God, in Canada, in St. Paul's and in myself, and for all of these things, I am truly, deeply and intensely grateful.