What happens when you invite a new generation to lead worship in a space steeped in tradition? And what happens when those leading come from very different traditions, not to debate their differences, but to pray for the city they all call home?
On Halloween night, the Eve of All Saints Day, we decided to find out.
St Patrick’s Church in Braddon was the setting for an ecumenical worship night that brought together around sixty unique individuals over a six hour period. Some came and went. Others stayed, praying and worshipping well into the night. By 2am, around half were still there.
There was something fitting about gathering at St Patrick’s. Opened in 1935 it was the first Catholic church in Canberra’s northern suburbs. Established to serve a growing city, it became a place where newcomers could find community, belonging and faith. More than 90 years later, its doors are still welcoming people from all walks of life, bringing their different expressions of faith into the space.
The worship expression was contemporary. There were moments of lively singing, passionate prayer and praise. But there were also moments of deep, profound silence. No rush to fill the gaps. No need for another song or another crescendo. Just space to be still, listen and encounter the presence of God.
Perhaps this is where things get interesting.
For those accustomed to Pentecostal expressions of worship, what does it mean to encounter God in a space that invites stillness? And for those from Catholic or more liturgically shaped traditions, what might it mean to encounter a spontaneity and freedom that sits outside their usual experience of prayer?
Neither tradition needs to win. Both have something to offer, and perhaps something to learn.
And worship, when it draws us closer to God, should also change the way we see the world around us.
As the night unfolded, our attention turned beyond the space we were gathered in. From our worship came our prayers: for churches to see one another with greater love, generosity and openness; and for a new generation to continue being formed and equipped to meet and encounter the least, the lost and the lonely across our city.
Perhaps that’s something worth remembering. Our worship is never meant to end with us. The encounter with God draws us outwards, towards our neighbours, our communities and those who might otherwise go unseen.
And the timing mattered.
Today, Halloween is widely marked through costumes, ghosts, ghouls and an embrace of all things spooky and supernatural. In an increasingly secular culture, these images are often normalised, understood as little more than harmless fun, with little thought given to the symbolism they carry.
Yet, for the Church, this night also marks the threshold of All Saints Day – a celebration of lives shaped by faith, hope and the light of Christ. While much of the world turns its attention to images of darkness, we gathered to turn ours towards the light: praying for our city, celebrating the communion of saints and remembering that the story of Christianity is ultimately one of hope, resurrection and life.
There is something powerful about remembering that we are part of a story much bigger than ourselves. A story carried across generations, shaped by different traditions and expressions of faith, and entrusted to us to continue.
The challenge for the Church today is not simply to make room for a new generation, but to make room for one another – to be open to unfamiliar expressions of faith, to allow ourselves to be challenged and enriched by different traditions, and to discover what becomes possible when we move beyond our denominational boundaries.
And maybe the bigger question is what might happen when we open not only the doors of our churches, but ourselves to one another – and allow God to surprise us through the simple, yet powerful, act of praying together.