By Peter Duffy
HOW does he do it?
The more this elderly man of God shares with me, the more I marvel at his faith and his stamina. Incredibly, Cannon Sidney Davies is 96 years old and still preaching to Anglican congregations !
I’m at North Mountain, near Canning, sitting in this dedicated priest’s living room, listening to tales of an amazing 70-year calling, one that began in a field of turnips.
Sidney’s a twinkly-eyed, weathered imp of a fellow who, although physically rather frail now and beset by arthritic legs, possesses a memory for names, dates and places that puts my own to shame.
At least once a month, this man delivers a sermon at a local church, usually St. Thomas in Kingsport.
"They provide me with a table and chair," he says. "I take the service sitting down.
Sidney’s from England, which is where he first got the calling, albeit a hesitant one.
At the age of 14, under the spell of his local parish priest, he decided he had a vocation for the ministry.
His ambition began to wane, however, when the time came to commit to seminary school, where he’d been accepted as a novitiate. It all began to seem a bit confusing to him, not to mention off-putting.
"They asked me things like, ‘Are you prepared to be celibate?’ " he chuckles. "I hardly knew the meaning of the word !"
Confused and just 18, he turned away. "I didn’t know what I wanted to do."
The answer came in the form of an advertisement seeking British immigrants to Canada. The idea appealed to him.
"I wanted to get away from everything for a while," he says. "I had no plans."
His father was furious, labelling Canada "a colony filled with cowboys and Indians."
Sidney was not to be deterred. In 1930, mere months after turning his back on the seminary, he sailed for Canada and found work as a farm labourer near Ottawa, which is where his epiphany occurred.
"I was hoeing turnips and I heard the voice of God saying, ‘What are you doing here? I don’t want you to hoe turnips; I want you to be a priest in my church’ ."
Sidney didn’t argue. He went back to school to complete his Grade 12 and then, with financial help from his mollified father, enrolled at university to gain the necessary degrees for his calling.
And so began his ministry, first as a deacon and then, after his ordination in 1939, as a priest.
Correction, make that ministries plural because, over the years, Sidney has had almost too many to count.
Such has been his enthusiasm and dedication to his faith that the various bishops in his life kept moving him from parish to parish. Each time he was relocated, he’d throw himself into the life of the community and its various institutions, especially the Boy Scouts and the Victorian Order of Nurses.
Somewhere in his hectic life, Sidney found time to court and marry his sweetheart, Muriel, and father their three children.
While ministering in Ontario, a chance meeting with the Dean of Nova Scotia enticed him to the Maritimes where he’s been ever since, serving on P.E.I., in Newfoundland and, finally, in Nova Scotia in communities like Amherst and Fall River.
Four of his years in this region were spent serving with the Canadian Bible Society.
Once, his wife was so worried about how hard he was driving himself that she secretly called his boss.
"She told the bishop, ‘Get him out of there because he’s killing himself!’ "
Sidney has never really known when to quit. At the age of 60 and by then an arch deacon, he accepted the challenge of uniting the congregations of Waverley, Windsor Junction and St. Margarets-Oldfield.
After seven years there as rector, he decided it was time to let go. "I thought I’d had enough," he tells me.
W-e-l-l, not quite enough. He simply couldn’t resist the opportunity of one more assignment, this time as assistant priest at St. James in Kentville in the 240-year-old Parish of Cornwallis.
And here, high on a hill in Kings County, Sidney’s travelling days have ended. But not his service to the church or, for that matter, his love of life and all that it has to offer. In 2000, after 62 years of marriage, his wife Muriel died and he found himself alone again.
Over time, one of his female congregants, a widow, began to take on a special meaning in Sidney’s life.
Her name was Ruth and she’s the same woman who’s been sitting quietly here on the couch, listening to our interview.
I turn to her. "Was it love at first sight?" I ask. Ruth smiles shyly. "I loved him in the way you love a wonderful priest," she replies.
Sidney confesses he fell in love with her home, this very same one in which we’re sitting.
"I said, ‘You have a lovely view; I wouldn’t mind living here !’ and she said, ‘Well, why don’t you?’ "
And so it came to pass.
Four years ago, at the marvellous ages of 92 and 79 respectively, Sidney and Ruth got married.
How does this man do it ?!
pduffy@herald.ca
© 2008 The Halifax Herald Limited - NS
August 16, 2008
CANADA: Sidney’s spirit and strength astound me
HALIFAX, Nova Scotia (The ChronicleHerald), August 16, 2008:
Columnists
By Peter Duffy
HOW does he do it?
The more this elderly man of God shares with me, the more I marvel at his faith and his stamina. Incredibly, Cannon Sidney Davies is 96 years old and still preaching to Anglican congregations !
I’m at North Mountain, near Canning, sitting in this dedicated priest’s living room, listening to tales of an amazing 70-year calling, one that began in a field of turnips.
Sidney’s a twinkly-eyed, weathered imp of a fellow who, although physically rather frail now and beset by arthritic legs, possesses a memory for names, dates and places that puts my own to shame.
At least once a month, this man delivers a sermon at a local church, usually St. Thomas in Kingsport.
"They provide me with a table and chair," he says. "I take the service sitting down.
Sidney’s from England, which is where he first got the calling, albeit a hesitant one.
At the age of 14, under the spell of his local parish priest, he decided he had a vocation for the ministry.
His ambition began to wane, however, when the time came to commit to seminary school, where he’d been accepted as a novitiate. It all began to seem a bit confusing to him, not to mention off-putting.
"They asked me things like, ‘Are you prepared to be celibate?’ " he chuckles. "I hardly knew the meaning of the word !"
Confused and just 18, he turned away. "I didn’t know what I wanted to do."
The answer came in the form of an advertisement seeking British immigrants to Canada. The idea appealed to him.
"I wanted to get away from everything for a while," he says. "I had no plans."
His father was furious, labelling Canada "a colony filled with cowboys and Indians."
Sidney was not to be deterred. In 1930, mere months after turning his back on the seminary, he sailed for Canada and found work as a farm labourer near Ottawa, which is where his epiphany occurred.
"I was hoeing turnips and I heard the voice of God saying, ‘What are you doing here? I don’t want you to hoe turnips; I want you to be a priest in my church’ ."
Sidney didn’t argue. He went back to school to complete his Grade 12 and then, with financial help from his mollified father, enrolled at university to gain the necessary degrees for his calling.
And so began his ministry, first as a deacon and then, after his ordination in 1939, as a priest.
Correction, make that ministries plural because, over the years, Sidney has had almost too many to count.
Such has been his enthusiasm and dedication to his faith that the various bishops in his life kept moving him from parish to parish. Each time he was relocated, he’d throw himself into the life of the community and its various institutions, especially the Boy Scouts and the Victorian Order of Nurses.
Somewhere in his hectic life, Sidney found time to court and marry his sweetheart, Muriel, and father their three children.
While ministering in Ontario, a chance meeting with the Dean of Nova Scotia enticed him to the Maritimes where he’s been ever since, serving on P.E.I., in Newfoundland and, finally, in Nova Scotia in communities like Amherst and Fall River.
Four of his years in this region were spent serving with the Canadian Bible Society.
Once, his wife was so worried about how hard he was driving himself that she secretly called his boss.
"She told the bishop, ‘Get him out of there because he’s killing himself!’ "
Sidney has never really known when to quit. At the age of 60 and by then an arch deacon, he accepted the challenge of uniting the congregations of Waverley, Windsor Junction and St. Margarets-Oldfield.
After seven years there as rector, he decided it was time to let go. "I thought I’d had enough," he tells me.
W-e-l-l, not quite enough. He simply couldn’t resist the opportunity of one more assignment, this time as assistant priest at St. James in Kentville in the 240-year-old Parish of Cornwallis.
And here, high on a hill in Kings County, Sidney’s travelling days have ended. But not his service to the church or, for that matter, his love of life and all that it has to offer. In 2000, after 62 years of marriage, his wife Muriel died and he found himself alone again.
Over time, one of his female congregants, a widow, began to take on a special meaning in Sidney’s life.
Her name was Ruth and she’s the same woman who’s been sitting quietly here on the couch, listening to our interview.
I turn to her. "Was it love at first sight?" I ask. Ruth smiles shyly. "I loved him in the way you love a wonderful priest," she replies.
Sidney confesses he fell in love with her home, this very same one in which we’re sitting.
"I said, ‘You have a lovely view; I wouldn’t mind living here !’ and she said, ‘Well, why don’t you?’ "
And so it came to pass.
Four years ago, at the marvellous ages of 92 and 79 respectively, Sidney and Ruth got married.
How does this man do it ?!
pduffy@herald.ca
© 2008 The Halifax Herald Limited - NS
By Peter Duffy
HOW does he do it?
The more this elderly man of God shares with me, the more I marvel at his faith and his stamina. Incredibly, Cannon Sidney Davies is 96 years old and still preaching to Anglican congregations !
I’m at North Mountain, near Canning, sitting in this dedicated priest’s living room, listening to tales of an amazing 70-year calling, one that began in a field of turnips.
Sidney’s a twinkly-eyed, weathered imp of a fellow who, although physically rather frail now and beset by arthritic legs, possesses a memory for names, dates and places that puts my own to shame.
At least once a month, this man delivers a sermon at a local church, usually St. Thomas in Kingsport.
"They provide me with a table and chair," he says. "I take the service sitting down.
Sidney’s from England, which is where he first got the calling, albeit a hesitant one.
At the age of 14, under the spell of his local parish priest, he decided he had a vocation for the ministry.
His ambition began to wane, however, when the time came to commit to seminary school, where he’d been accepted as a novitiate. It all began to seem a bit confusing to him, not to mention off-putting.
"They asked me things like, ‘Are you prepared to be celibate?’ " he chuckles. "I hardly knew the meaning of the word !"
Confused and just 18, he turned away. "I didn’t know what I wanted to do."
The answer came in the form of an advertisement seeking British immigrants to Canada. The idea appealed to him.
"I wanted to get away from everything for a while," he says. "I had no plans."
His father was furious, labelling Canada "a colony filled with cowboys and Indians."
Sidney was not to be deterred. In 1930, mere months after turning his back on the seminary, he sailed for Canada and found work as a farm labourer near Ottawa, which is where his epiphany occurred.
"I was hoeing turnips and I heard the voice of God saying, ‘What are you doing here? I don’t want you to hoe turnips; I want you to be a priest in my church’ ."
Sidney didn’t argue. He went back to school to complete his Grade 12 and then, with financial help from his mollified father, enrolled at university to gain the necessary degrees for his calling.
And so began his ministry, first as a deacon and then, after his ordination in 1939, as a priest.
Correction, make that ministries plural because, over the years, Sidney has had almost too many to count.
Such has been his enthusiasm and dedication to his faith that the various bishops in his life kept moving him from parish to parish. Each time he was relocated, he’d throw himself into the life of the community and its various institutions, especially the Boy Scouts and the Victorian Order of Nurses.
Somewhere in his hectic life, Sidney found time to court and marry his sweetheart, Muriel, and father their three children.
While ministering in Ontario, a chance meeting with the Dean of Nova Scotia enticed him to the Maritimes where he’s been ever since, serving on P.E.I., in Newfoundland and, finally, in Nova Scotia in communities like Amherst and Fall River.
Four of his years in this region were spent serving with the Canadian Bible Society.
Once, his wife was so worried about how hard he was driving himself that she secretly called his boss.
"She told the bishop, ‘Get him out of there because he’s killing himself!’ "
Sidney has never really known when to quit. At the age of 60 and by then an arch deacon, he accepted the challenge of uniting the congregations of Waverley, Windsor Junction and St. Margarets-Oldfield.
After seven years there as rector, he decided it was time to let go. "I thought I’d had enough," he tells me.
W-e-l-l, not quite enough. He simply couldn’t resist the opportunity of one more assignment, this time as assistant priest at St. James in Kentville in the 240-year-old Parish of Cornwallis.
And here, high on a hill in Kings County, Sidney’s travelling days have ended. But not his service to the church or, for that matter, his love of life and all that it has to offer. In 2000, after 62 years of marriage, his wife Muriel died and he found himself alone again.
Over time, one of his female congregants, a widow, began to take on a special meaning in Sidney’s life.
Her name was Ruth and she’s the same woman who’s been sitting quietly here on the couch, listening to our interview.
I turn to her. "Was it love at first sight?" I ask. Ruth smiles shyly. "I loved him in the way you love a wonderful priest," she replies.
Sidney confesses he fell in love with her home, this very same one in which we’re sitting.
"I said, ‘You have a lovely view; I wouldn’t mind living here !’ and she said, ‘Well, why don’t you?’ "
And so it came to pass.
Four years ago, at the marvellous ages of 92 and 79 respectively, Sidney and Ruth got married.
How does this man do it ?!
pduffy@herald.ca
© 2008 The Halifax Herald Limited - NS
