A Reflection from Archbishop Anne Germond
The morning after our conversation with Maggie Helwig, I found myself still thinking about her. What stayed with me most was her authenticity. She is who she is who she is. There was no self-promotion, no lingering over accolades. Even when speaking of the Toronto Book Award, she reminded us that the encampment was dismantled less than 24 hours later. The award did not change the reality on the ground.
What struck me most, however, was not simply her courage or her stamina. It was her insistence on relationship.
It would be easy, after an evening like that, to focus our attention on St. Stephen-in-the-Fields and the remarkable ministry taking place in Toronto. But Maggie would not allow us to stay there. She gently redirected us: find your own context. The work is right there.
In Algoma, that means Thunder Bay. North Bay. Sudbury. Sault Ste. Marie. Bracebridge. It means the towns and rural communities where housing insecurity, addiction, poverty, and isolation are very real. The faces are different. The dynamics are different. But the suffering is not abstract. It is local. It is near.
One of the most powerful reframings Maggie offered was her resistance to the “helper-helped” dynamic. She is careful not to speak for unhoused people. And yet, she is certainly a sage voice for those of us in the Anglican Church of Canada who seek to serve. She teaches us something about how we approach this ministry.
We often imagine ourselves as the ones who bring help. We organize food programs. We offer shelter. We advocate. All of that is important. But Maggie reminded us that faithful response is never one-directional.
Scripture reinforces this truth. In 1 Corinthians 12, the Apostle Paul writes that “the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable,” and that “if one member suffers, all suffer together with it.” Within the body of Christ, vulnerability is not a deficit to be managed; it is a shared condition that binds us to one another.
This vision challenges any sharp division between “helper” and “helped.” It calls us instead into relationships of mutual dependence, humility, and care — where all are both givers and receivers of grace.
Maggie spoke about being welcomed into the community that formed in the churchyard. That is an extraordinary theological reversal. The Church was not the architect of community; it was received into a community already shaped by people surviving together. That challenges our assumptions.
What would it look like for us, in our own contexts, to approach ministry not as experts or rescuers, but as neighbours? What would need to shift in our perspective so that we are better informed and more compassionate leaders?
In each of our communities — whether urban or rural — there are people who are unhoused, underhoused, precariously housed. There are people living with profound mental health challenges and addiction. There are people whose stories we do not know because we have not yet learned their names.
Maggie’s challenge was simple and profound: begin with relationship. Ask. Listen. Build trust. Allow yourself to be changed by the encounter.
That is not easy work. It requires patience. It requires humility. It requires us to lay aside the illusion that we are in control. It requires us to accept that the Body of Christ is incomplete when any part is dismissed or hidden away.
This year, our diocesan theme is “rooted and grounded in Christ.” If we take that seriously, it cannot be merely devotional language. To be rooted and grounded in Christ is to be rooted and grounded in relationship — because Christ himself formed community first. He called disciples. He ate with those on the margins. He allowed himself to be touched by suffering.
If we are rooted in him, then we must also be rooted in one another.
Being grounded in Christ means that when one member suffers, we do not look away. It means that we recognize that our own spiritual health is bound up with the well-being of those who are most vulnerable. It means that kindness — as Maggie described it — is not naïve sentimentality, but faithful witness.
The question before us is not whether we admire such ministry. The question is how we respond.
In Thunder Bay, in North Bay, in Sudbury, in Sault Ste. Marie, in Bracebridge, in every corner of Algoma — what is right there? Who is right there?
What would it take for us to shift from programs alone to relationships? From charity alone to community? From service that flows in one direction to relationships where grace flows both ways?
I am grateful to Maggie for reminding us that the Church’s calling is not heroic or exceptional. It is relational. It is embodied. It is shared.
The work is not somewhere else. The work is right here.
And if we are rooted and grounded in Christ, we will find that Christ is already ahead of us, calling us to respond.