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On sticky hot July afternoons
I shall be seated  on a chilled pew
in a vacant and cooled nave
and I shall reflect on things bigger than me.

On August evenings, I shall look high towards
the sky, aghast by all that I can not see and
affirmed by all that I do see and I shall feel small.

On breezy September afternoons
I shall tread lightly amongst old weathered grave stones
and follow an overgrown trail to visit
and pray with those who will never know my name.

And perhaps, I may even, go to Church.

                    E.B. Reid.   May 1, 2022

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A service of Tenebrae, meaning “darkness,” was held on Wednesday night. Between antiphons and lessons, all sung by the choir, candles were

extinguished until the building was in near total darkness. Finally, the centre candle, representing Jesus, was removed. A loud noise was heard, and then Christ candle was brought back. This visual depiction of Christ’s desertion by his friends is a powerful way to begin the lead up to Jesus’ death on Good Friday.

Maundy Thursday began with a service primarily for the clergy of the diocese at which they renewed their ordination vows, and at which the holy oils for the coming year were blessed by Bishop Samuel Rose. That evening saw the commemoration of the last supper, which was followed by the stripping of the altar, during which the choir sang from the Lady Chapel. 

On Good Friday, the children of the parish met in the morning for the Stations of the Cross, and a dozen faithful gathered to walk the temporary labyrinth late in the afternoon. Some of those who walked also bared and shared their soles. At the labyrinth’s centre, walkers were met with a crown of thorns.

Saturday saw a busy hive of activity as the altar guild spent hours getting the Easter garden, flowers, hangings, and other things all ready for Easter.

On Sunday, Bishop Rose celebrated the Eucharist, preached, and took part in a baptism. All week, the beauty of the building was matched by the solemnity and beauty of the liturgies and music. 

The Lord is risen! He is risen indeed. Alleluia!

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It’s not an easy thing to do in today’s world. It seems that even when we’re alone we’re not really alone. The cell phone in my pocket is a constant companion—a reminder that the busy world is only a hair’s breadth away. Even when it is silent it still calls out, tempting me to check my messages or to peruse the endless entertainment of the internet. Stillness eludes me, because I am tethered to the wide world, and too often am reluctant to let the leash go.

But we all need to let go sometimes. It is good (in fact, it is necessary, I believe) for a healthy mental, emotional, and spiritual life to permit oneself a period of blessed silence and stillness. A moment to let your mind drift from seemingly important and pressing matters, and allow the gentle (and normally imperceptible) song of the universe to wash over you.

For me that time comes mostly in the late spring and summer. I love to go kayaking, and there are few joys in my life like the peace of floating calmly on a glasslike lake or bay. In those precious moments I feel truly close to God—not like I do when I say my morning or evening prayers; not like when I go for walks or otherwise try to relax in my busy life. On the water, there is nothing except the beauty of creation, the sound of the breeze, and the swish of the water as I slide the kayak along. There is peace in those moments, and for a short time I truly know the loving embrace of God.

And sometimes I’ll catch fish.

Kayaking is not for everyone, I’m sure. But I am equally sure that God provides each one of us such a means of stillness. Maybe it’s gardening, or knitting, or hiking. Maybe eating a simple breakfast while reading a book. The list is inexhaustible. We, each of us, need to find what it is that gives us this stillness. If you’re fortunate, you already know it. If not, I implore you to start exploring the possibilities.

Once you know what it is, please make time for it. The world will not end, your life will not fall apart, if you just take the time you need in stillness. In fact, afterwards you will be far more capable of handling the various complications and demands of life.

God gives many gifts. And this gift, I believe, he gives to all. Accept it, and let it bless your life. Let stillness be for you, as it is for me, the embrace of God, and a peace which passes all understanding.

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I want to help: help the refugees, help save the planet, help those who are in need. We try to do all the right things: we recycle and compost instead of throwing everything in the trash, we buy locally in order to support the economy, we conserve electricity and drive only when and as necessary. We support a number of charities, and generally try to be decent human beings. But what does any of it matter? Our actions in and of themselves aren’t going to change the world!

Or will they? After all, Jesus was just one man, albeit a pretty awesome one, and to be totally fair he had a little help from above. But he also gathered like minded supporters and look how that turned out. Not the crucifixion part of course, but everything that came afterwards. Okay, well not everything; the Church has done and been responsible for some super questionable things. But we also do a lot of good in the world. Right?

Maybe it’s a mid-life crisis (although I hope this is not mid life yet), but I often find it all so insurmountable. No matter what we do, we are just one family, and can we really make any difference?

The kids though—boy they are just designed for social justice. Their enthusiasm for doing what is right gives me hope that someday the adults will get their stuff together and see the world through the eyes of the children. My youngest will often ask about the people he sees in the streets, standing at intersections with a cup out, hoping for some change. He will say that if he had a million dollars he would give it all away so people wouldn’t be homeless. 

Then we have billionaires trying to race each other into space. What sort of sense does that make? Why spend so many resources on exploring the universe when we can’t even take care of the one tiny planet with which we have been entrusted? We can’t even feed and clothe and protect the people in this world. Where does that disconnect happen, and how do we reprogram that? Does all of this seem ridiculous to anyone else? 

I find I have to remind myself that everything starts at the grassroots, just like Jesus did. Seek out like minded individuals, and together we can change the world. It’s all about one step at a time, one day at time, once cause at a time. Progress is slow, but then again, slow and steady still gets us to the end. 

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One evening, driving by my current parish church, the light from the presence lamp was brightly shining as I passed by. What a feeling of calm and a feeling of companionship I felt as I saw the light. There are some evenings now, as I am driving home, that I will make a detour to go past the church just so that I can see the presence lamp shining in the darkness. It gives to me a feeling of comfort, a feeling of assurance, and a feeling of peace. I know that within the darkness there is a presence. 

Other times, especially after an evening of teaching confirmation class or after having a vestry meeting, I enter into the worship space and I sit in a pew and take the time to think and reflect in silence, and also in the presence of the tabernacle light. I take the words which were preached at my ordination to the diaconate to heart as I examine the things I have done in the day and wonder, if I had to do it all over again, what would I do the same, and what would I do differently. Romans 13:12 says: “The night is far spent, the day is at hand: let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light.” The tabernacle light is such: the armour of light needed in our world. 

Whether it be our feelings because of the pandemic or because of the sadness we see on the nightly newscast, we feel there are times we live in darkness, yet the light of Christ shines. The light of Christ shines and pierces the darkness giving a sense of hope—hope to a world so desperately in need of something better.

So the next time you are driving by your parish church, look in if you can, and see if you can see the tabernacle light shining in the darkness. Know that because such a light is shining, you are not alone. Take to heart the words of St. Matthew’s Gospel, echoed in the liturgy of Holy Baptism in the Giving of the Light: “Let your light so shine before others, that they may see your good works, and glorify you Father in Heaven.” 

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However, for the last three years, our church family, as well as neighbouring ones have been limited in our capacity to participate in events that were previously enjoyed to compliment each special spiritual occasion, due to the Coronavirus.

Of equal deprivation has been the restrictions involving fellowship with the ACW for special activities in planning events associated with outreach. But with cautious optimism, we are finally commencing to visualize a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel, beginning with Rev’d Jotie’s guidance throughout the biggest and most important event of the year. 

Our weekly Lenten services, and our nightly participation during Holy Week, leading up to Good Friday and Easter Sunday, were all enjoyed without incident or interruption through fear of isolation. 

It was also during Lent this year that all, under the capable guidance of our ACW president Betty Hiscock, enjoyed a very stimulating quiet day. A group of ladies from our home parish, together with invited guests from neighbouring churches, assembled in the hall at 9:30am. First to unwind and relax with a cup of tea and a chat before proceeding upstairs for a very stimulating address by Betty. 

The focus of Betty’s discussion centred solely on the concept of love. In her elaboration on love, she emphasized how essential it is in our daily lives and nature as human beings. She talked about earthly love in the context of helping our neighbours and those In need. But she stressed that it must not be isolated from spiritual love as all is inspired by the grace of God. 

Let your light so shine before men, That they may see your good works And glorify your Father in Heaven.

Matthew 5:16. 

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Lenten Quiet Day

On Friday,  April 1, 2022, St. James’ Church in Port aux Basques held a Lenten quiet day. The theme was “The Garden—Tending To The Presence of God.” There were 19 people in attendance. Rev’d Jane led the service with scripture, readings, prayers, hymns, and the Holy Eucharist. The morning ended with a lunch.

Palm Crosses

On April 7th, the altar guild of St. James’ Church in Port aux Basques gathered together to make palm crosses in preparation for Palm Sunday. It was a nice evening of fellowship.

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Later, mulling over his dying, the question just kept popping in my mind: when your bodily functions shut down and you die, what happens to your soul and where does it go? Souls are usually described as being without bodily form and immortal, and being able to survive death into some form of an afterlife. If indeed the soul is incorporeal, is it an immeasurable entity without trace that exists independently of anything else? I can understand the hardware of the brain dying with one’s body, but what about the software of the mind—soul, spirit, or whatever? Why would that die too? If there is individual immortality, is the route via the soul? The question of a divine element in the soul has been a subject of everlasting debate, and there’s been oodles of philosophic nattering on the soul- body relationship in terms of form and matter. But read all about it and discuss it with whom you may, there is very little clarity to be had—certainly nowhere near the level of reasonable and probable grounds—to be found. Many posit that the soul is where God dwells in us. 

Bertrand Russell in his autobiography says at age 15 he spent considerable time thinking about the validity of Christian religious dogma, and by 18 had decided to discard the last of it. Russell’s father, a well-known atheist, died when young Russell was only 6 years old. One wonders as he grew older just how much influence his father’s earlier thinking had on him. It’s easily accepted that a caring son would want to support his father’s way of seeing things, especially so, when the loss of his father weighed heavily in his early development. 

In his book “Why I am not a Christian,” Russell states, “I believe that when I die, I shall rot, and nothing of my ego will survive.” He makes repeated reference to “all the evidence” suggesting such-and-such. He was experiencing similar difficulty as the rest of us in trying to rationally justify the existence of a supernatural power. Within our natural world, let alone a supernatural one, we only possess limited knowledge therefore making subsequent conclusions on the supernatural can often be flimsily based and found wanting. 

Russell says: “We know that the brain is not immortal, and that the organized energy of a living body becomes, as it were, demobilized at death and therefore not available for collective action. All the evidence goes to show that what we regard as our mental life is bound up with brain structure and organized bodily energy. Therefore, it is rational to suppose that mental life ceases when bodily life ceases. The argument is only one of probability, but it is as strong as those upon which most scientific conclusions are based.” 

Bertrand Russell was an intellectual giant and one who spoke with a level of rationale and honesty that surpassed many others of his time, so one is somewhat hesitant to be critical of him. Yet, his findings and conclusions as to whether or not there is a God are based on a human rational model of thinking. I conclude Russell is off the mark. In our natural world you just cannot, be it Bertrand Russell or anyone else, use our models of evidence and so-called fact collection, within our natural world to prove or disprove whether or not God exists, in a supernatural world. As I see it there is just no sense to be found in attempting to match or compare the natural with the supernatural. 

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