A pilgrimage of Vocation, Loss, Endurance, and Unexpected Grace
Rosanne Purnwasie | B.R.E., M.T.S., M.A. Master of Divinity Student
Rosanne Purnwasie is in her third year of the Master of Divinity at Knox College pursuing ordination as Minister of Word and Sacrament in the Presbyterian Church in Canada. Rosanne was born in Guyana and grew up in Toronto and Ajax. Her home church is St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church, Ajax. She has completed a Bachelor of Religious Education (Tyndale, 2001), a Master of Theological Studies (Tyndale, 2007), and a Master of Arts (York U, 2010). She has worked in project management and the social services for over 25 years and is currently a Distance Education Facilitator at Loyalist College. She is a widow and enjoys spending time with her 12-year-old son, hiking, weight training, yoga, and pilates. She is looking forward to working alongside the Ministry Forum team for this 2025-2026 academic year. Feel free to meet her on campus - she loves impromptu conversations!
My time at Knox College has unfolded not simply as an academic program, but as a pilgrimage marked by vocation, loss, endurance, and unexpected grace.
Entering the Master of Divinity program required courage in itself. Arriving at Knox College to fulfill the requirements in pursuit of congregational leadership in the Presbyterian Church in Canada, at midlife, is to come, not as a blank slate, but as a person already formed by decades of experience, questions, disappointments, and faith.
Approaching graduation in May 2026, just following my 50th birthday, I stand at a threshold that feels less like commencement and more like commissioning.
The second term of my degree marked a rupture I could never have anticipated. The sudden death of my husband in a workplace accident cleaved my life, and my young son’s life, into before and after. Grief did not arrive politely; it disrupted concentration, reordered priorities, and forced theology out of abstraction and into flesh. Doctrines of providence, suffering, hope, and resurrection were no longer topics for exegesis alone, they became the terrain of survival. In lecture rooms and study spaces, I was not merely interpreting Scripture; I was wrestling with God.
It is within this crucible that the community of Knox College revealed itself not simply as an academic institution, but as an embodied ecclesial community.
Professors did more than evaluate papers; they listened.
Classmates, my co-members of the M&T Society (Mission & Theological Society), and my colleagues in the Ministry Forum, did more than collaborate; they sat beside me in silence.
Staff members did more than administration; they extended compassion.
The steady presence of people willing to receive tears without embarrassment, to offer shoulders without hesitation, and to embrace me without suspicion became sacramental. In a cultural moment where touch is often guarded and institutional life can feel transactional, the gift of uncalculated hugs, especially from the Chaplains, communicated something profoundly theological: I was not alone.
This support did not erase grief, but it bore witness to the communion of saints in tangible form. It reminded me that Christian formation is never purely intellectual. It is communal, embodied, and relational. The Reformed tradition’s emphasis on covenant community became lived reality. Knox College became a place where lament was permitted, where weakness did not disqualify me from vocation, and where perseverance was quietly encouraged.
Completing five decades of life on earth at the time of graduation carries its own symbolic weight. I have gained a maturity that comes not from textbooks but from survival. My theological education has been shaped as much by hospital visits, funeral arrangements, and long nights of Greek paradigms or homiletical theory. The Master of Divinity has, in truth, been a masterclass in dependence upon God. If ministry calls for solidarity with those who suffer, then my formation has been profound.
I leave Knox, not untouched by sorrow, but strengthened by community. I carry with me not only academic credentials, but embodied knowledge of grace mediated through human presence. The College has been a place of study, but also a place of shelter. As I step toward ordination and ministry, I do so as one who has known both deep loss and deep love. And that, perhaps, is the most enduring education my time at Knox could have offered.
As the Spirit opens the way to my next steps, I find myself hoping not for an easy path, but for a faithful one. I pray for the kind of ministry shaped by tenderness rather than performance, and by presence rather than productivity.
Having known both profound loss and profound accompaniment, I long to serve God’s children with a shepherd’s heart, one attentive to grief, alert to injustice, patient with doubt, and confident in resurrection hope. I ask the Spirit to grant me courage to lead with authenticity, not apologizing for the years behind me, but drawing upon them as holy preparation.
Perhaps my deepest prayer is that my life, marked by love, sorrow, study, and perseverance, would become a quiet testimony to Christ’s sustaining grace, and that wherever I am sent, I would help create the same kind of community that once held me when I needed holding most.