Reflections on the Winding Way

By Andrew Stephens-Rennie on December 31, 2025

At the end of November I travelled to Mississauga in order to facilitate a series of restructuring conversations for the Council of General Synod. The itinerary was straightforward. Fly from Castlegar to Vancouver, wait an hour, and board my connection to Toronto. Arrive in Toronto, pick up bags, go to the hotel, sleep. After a week of meetings, return home in the same way.

The only thing wrong was that my plan depended on the Castlegar airport refusing to live up to its reputation.

What happened instead held the promise of a decent movie script. A modern adaptation of Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, perhaps.

On the day of the flight, the friend taking me to the airport forgot. I engaged a backup plan and made it to the airport in time. The clouds lifted, the plane landed, the angels sang. A voice, as if from the heavens, implored us to hurry through security. Perhaps we would leave early! I hurried through. I sat down.
I waited, and I waited, and I waited.

Everything appeared to be fine until another voice spoke over the PA: “Due to mechanical issues, this flight is cancelled.”

So began a day of travel woes that brought me to Kelowna by bus, Vancouver by plane, and a late-night red-eye to Toronto. My return home had an equal share of unexpected twists and turns.

On the second day of my trip home, my flight was cancelled yet again. Through shared annoyance at our circumstances, another delayed passenger told me about “I Like Me,” a recent documentary about John Candy. It turns out I wasn’t the only one with Planes, Trains, and Automobiles on my mind. I downloaded it to watch on the inevitable bus ride home.

The film, by turns funny and serious, was a beautiful tribute to Candy’s work and the person behind it all. It highlighted the comedian’s rise through Second City and SCTV towards the world of feature films. The parties. The limelight. His care and compassion, his empathy for others. Throughout it all, an undercurrent of pain.

The film’s throughline–the recurring theme–was Candy’s restless search for God-knows-what. Towards the end of the film, reflecting on Candy’s struggles, fellow actor Don Lake remarks, “I remember thinking how he was trying to find home.” Johnny Toronto was unflappable, larger than life. But behind the scenes, John Candy was anxious, at times deeply afraid. The film brought to light his contradictions, his hurts, his hopes. As I watched the film on a tiny screen in the back of the bus, I thought of my own contradictions.

On the road between Kelowna and Rock Creek, I reflected on my own quest to find a way home. Home to Rossland, yes. But also home to myself. I thought of the way in which I hear others describe me. I thought of my own restlessness. I thought about my own quest to resolve the disconnects, and heal the divisions that exist within my very self. I thought of my own journey towards what Parker Palmer calls “a hidden wholeness,” as elusive as it can sometimes be. I thought about these things, and I was reminded about how I–how we–cannot do life on our own. We need each other.

I thought about the Magi on their own ancient near Eastern Planes, Trains, and Automobiles journey. In the biblical account, we follow their journey until the moment they encounter the child and his star. We get a sense of the winding they will take, but we don’t think much more about their journey home. Like John Candy’s character Del, they haven’t been home in years.

They’re left with their thoughts. They’re left with their questions. They’re left with unresolved tensions, and the need to make sense of it all. In some sense, we’re all left to find our way home. The baby doesn’t stay small forever. The star doesn’t always shine so bright. The moment is world-changing. The moment passes. We’re left with the memories, with each other, and the journey ahead.

We’re left with the opportunity to create new memories. To make new connections. To pay attention to the pillars of cloud and the pillars of fire God has placed in the sky. We’re left with stories of the way things were, not so we can dwell there, but so that we can remember that God has been there all along–all along the way.

The journey of this year is before us. As we embark on this adventure, may we remember that God has been present, is present now, and will be with us even til the very end of the age.

Author

Skip to content