Winters are long and dark up here, and St. John’s offers something steady through them. We’re a small parish with deep roots in Fort Smith. We alternate Holy Communion and Morning Prayer on Sundays and sing the liturgy much as it’s always been sung, in a town we share with bison, the boreal forest and the Slave River rapids.
We try to be around before there’s a crisis, not only after one: at the correctional centre, at the Legion, and at kitchen tables around town. Be everywhere. Always. For everyone.