By The Rev. Chris Harris
Back in the mid‑2000s, I was a practicing lawyer and a newly minted Christian. I had stumbled into The Episcopal Church almost by accident — and then stayed because it was the first church where I wasn’t merely tolerated, but affirmed and celebrated as a beloved child of God. No conditions. No exceptions. That kind of welcome was life‑changing for me. It kept drawing me back, week after week, until I finally decided to be baptized and began serving in a few ministries. I wanted to give something back to the church that had given me so much.
What I didn’t know was that, around that same time, the Cathedral I attended had received an unexpected, anonymous bequest. The vestry decided to use it as seed money to create a new staff position: Director of Congregational Development. And even more surprising — they had me in mind for the role.
After a season of prayer and discernment, I took the leap. I handed my law practice over to an associate and joined the Cathedral staff. I had no idea how profoundly this decision would shape the rest of my life.
Not long after I started, I received a call from a financial planner. He was upset because his client — a Mr. J.J. Dubois — had left the Cathedral a significant estate gift the previous year, and the family had never received a thank‑you note. I couldn’t find the name anywhere in our database, but I apologized and immediately reached out to the family.
I eventually connected with Mr. Dubois’s daughter. She told me her father had suffered a severe mental health crisis in the 1990s and had “fallen off the grid,” losing contact with his family. They didn’t even know where he was living until the police notified them of his death. She explained that he had once been a successful college professor, but because of his breakdown, he would have appeared disheveled — even homeless.
“Wait… did you say homeless?”
Suddenly, everything clicked.
Our ushers had described a quiet man who came faithfully to weekday evensong. He sat in the back, rarely spoke, and sometimes stayed for a glass of sherry afterward. He never filled out a welcome card. He never gave his name. He simply came to rest in the sacred music and the warmth of a community that treated him with dignity.
And then, one day, he stopped coming.
I realized, in that moment, that this was the same man whose bequest had funded my position — the position that had brought me onto the Cathedral staff, reshaped my vocation, and set me on the path toward ordination.
I was speechless. I shared with his daughter the other side of her father’s story — how he had been welcomed, how he had been known (even without a name), how his gift had changed my life, and how his legacy would continue to ripple outward through my ministry as I worked to help ensure that everyone who walked through our doors would find the same welcome her father had.
That ministry eventually led to my ordination, and later to serving on the board of Invite Welcome Connect, a national evangelism ministry helping congregations across the country extend the same unconditional welcome that first transformed me — and that had embraced her father.
And the disgruntled financial planner?
We became friends.
He eventually joined the Cathedral.
And yes — he became the head of our planned giving committee!
This is the ripple effect of one legacy gift.
One welcome…
which led to one gift…
which led to one ministry…
which helped spark a movement of hospitality across the Episcopal Church…
ensuring that every person who walks through our doors — whoever they are, wherever they are on life’s journey — is welcomed, affirmed, and celebrated as the beloved child of God they are.
No conditions.
No exceptions.
I share this story because it’s just one example of how God uses our generosity in ways we could never predict or measure. Regardless of the size of your gift, God can use it to bless lives, strengthen ministries, and create ripples of grace that extend far beyond anything we could imagine.
If you’d like to explore how you can leave a lasting, life‑changing legacy gift to Christ Church Cranbrook, I would be honored to help you get started.
The Booth Legacy Society was created to recognize and celebrate those who have named Christ Church Cranbrook as a beneficiary of any planned gift — a will, trust, life‑insurance policy, retirement account, pay‑on‑death account, annuity, charitable remainder trust, and more.
For more information or help getting started, contact
Rev. Chris Harris at charris@christchurchcranbrook.org or 248‑644‑5210 x15.
This is a beautiful story. Thank you for sharing!