Arnie Kennedy

From an early age, I felt a deep sense that life was more than what could be seen or touched. Growing up, I was often the person friends and family turned to for comfort, perspective, or prayer in difficult times. I didn’t think of it as anything extraordinary—I simply felt compelled to listen without judgment and speak with care. Over time, I began to recognize that these conversations were more than casual talks; they were moments of spiritual connection, moments when I could see peace or hope returning to someone’s eyes.

As I matured, my faith deepened through both study and lived experience. I faced seasons of personal challenge that tested my beliefs and pushed me to wrestle with questions of purpose, justice, and love. In those times, I found that my relationship with God was not just a source of comfort, but a wellspring of strength and direction. I began to understand that ministry isn’t only about teaching or preaching—it’s about walking alongside people in their highest joys and deepest sorrows, embodying compassion and hope in a world that often feels fractured.

The call to ordination didn’t happen in a single moment, like a lightning strike. It was more like a steady sunrise—subtle, gradual, but impossible to ignore. I began volunteering in my local congregation, leading small groups, visiting the sick, and organizing outreach projects. I saw how ministry could take many forms: a sermon that stirs the heart, a silent presence at a hospital bedside, a food drive that nourishes both bodies and spirits. Each experience affirmed that this was not just something I could do, but something I was meant to do.

Ordination, for me, is both a sacred responsibility and a public declaration. It’s a commitment to live out my faith not only in private devotion, but in the service of others—across all backgrounds, beliefs, and life circumstances. I believe in meeting people where they are, honoring their dignity, and offering grace without condition. Being ordained allows me to formally perform ceremonies that mark life’s pivotal moments—marriages, baptisms, funerals—but it also carries the quiet, everyday work of pastoral care, advocacy, and guidance.

I chose to become an ordained minister because I believe that faith is most powerful when it is shared in love and lived with integrity. In a world that can feel divided, I want to be a bridge—someone who reminds people that they are not alone, that their lives have meaning, and that hope is always worth holding onto. My calling is to serve, to listen, to teach, and to walk humbly with God and those entrusted to my care.

This journey is not about personal recognition; it is about answering a call that has been written into my heart for as long as I can remember. Becoming an ordained minister is my way of saying “yes” to that call—fully, faithfully, and for as long as I am given breath.

The gates of heaven of course