A Link in the Chain: The quiet ministry of a military chaplain

seasons - a link in the chain

As a military chaplain, Chris Willis is used to being surprised, always ready to meet the day and whatever it may hold. Chris doesn’t always know what he is walking into. From pay discrepancies to marital issues, he deals with it all. He knows the 300-400 people in the Regiment by name and they refer to Chris fondly as “padre”. As a chaplain, Chris is always there for those on the base, they confide in him, they pray together, and he shows up and truly listens to them. 

In the military, a chaplain is sometimes referred to as a “sin-bosun”, a “bosun” is a term for the worst job on a ship, cleaning up messes and handling the tasks no one else wants to do. Within the confines of his four walls, Chris can hear a lot. Life is not always simple and when it comes to people sharing with him, Chris does not want them to feel like they need to put a filter on who they are. He accepts them, dark humour and all, because he wants them to feel safe. He prioritizes where people are, not where he wants them to be. 

One of Chris’s most powerful tools in ministry is prayer. He carefully gauges someone’s background and if they would be receptive to prayer before he asks if it would be okay to pray for them. Often, the people he prays with have never prayed before, but Chris is consistently encouraged by the transformative power of prayer. He has seen firsthand how, in moments of despair, a simple prayer can help lift someone’s spirit and bring peace. 

In the military, a chaplain is sometimes referred to as a “sin-bosun”, a “bosun” is a term for the worst job on a ship, cleaning up messes and handling the tasks no one else wants to do.

Previously, Chris was a pastor, where he did a lot of preaching and telling people how it is. But in his current role as a chaplain, Chris has learned that the most important thing he can do is listen and be fully present. Chaplaincy, at its core, is a ministry of being there—simply showing up and listening. Some soldiers only talk about things with others who have been through similar things. Chris doesn’t rush to solve their problems or provide immediate answers; instead, he listens deeply, creating a space where soldiers feel heard and understood. Through these conversations, themes of suffering, resilience, and mindfulness naturally arise. Forgiveness—both giving and receiving—often becomes a central part of the journey. By being fully present in these moments, Chris doesn’t simply give them the solution to their problem but helps them find their own. 

Chris is there for those in his Regiment, whether he’s playing a game of hockey or cards, or helping those in his care walk through issues they have at home or work. He is there for them all, praying for and with them. Ultimately, Chris’s mission is to be a link in the chain that leads others to a deeper understanding of God. Whether through conversation, prayer, or simply offering a listening ear, his goal is to guide those around him toward healing, hope, and a relationship with their Heavenly Padre.

grace mcivor


 

The Brightness of Montreal

seasons - a growing light in montreal

In evangelical circles, it seems quite common for Montreal to be referred to as a spiritually dark, desolate place. This seems discordant when most sources describe the city as bright, vibrant, often quirky, and very much alive.

The province of Quebec is largely post-Christian. Montreal, a city of nearly 3 million people, is a particularly salient example. It’s evident in looking at church buildings. Currently, at least 33 church buildings, several of them heritage sites, have been converted into community centres, libraries and sports centres. There is a chronic need for money to keep the old buildings maintained. It is abundantly clear that the city Montreal has become is very different from the city it used to be.

Our conversation with Jonathan got into some of the implications underneath the first impressions. Jonathan and Ashleigh deClet have been involved in evangelism in Montreal since 2017. Currently they serve with ServeCanada, and after we spoke together, Grace and I came out with a fuller sense of some of the needs they’ve witnessed, and the ways that they’re working to intervene. Their love of the city makes them want to change people’s perceptions.

The garden as a metaphor is particularly meaningful to Jonathan. He shared that he wants to plant the seeds that lead to new life.

One of the most urgent needs is food security. Many of the people they’re in community with are struggling to make ends meet. The ministry team feeds 500 families (2,000 people) every two weeks. Something as simple as sharing food can be a light in a dark place. They are working directly with two homes for the elderly, and two facilities for people who are mobility-reduced. In contrast to the assumptions about Montreal’s spiritual closedness, they’ve discovered that people are willing to have conversations around faith.

Jonathan and Ashleigh are also involved in the lives of young people. In their community kitchen, they offer jobs to youth who have disabilities, or who have fallen through the cracks.

As a result of their willingness to engage people, the team has seen increased participation in church community as well. They’ve seen growth in their youth group, from their start of 5 to 15. They’ve seen a heightened engagement, and a desire in people to be involved, to learn and to grow.

Jonathan wanted to point out that before they put themselves on this path, they invested a significant amount of time in prayerful contemplation. They wanted to understand the community’s needs, and what was already being done to meet them. From their sociological perspective, they wanted to see what made the community tick well before they tried to speak into it and make any kind of a difference.

The instructive question here for ministry of any kind is What does it mean to build community? How does it work? Understanding this, engaging with it, and enhancing it is just one of so many ways there are to love God.

brad jarvis