Auntie Jo's rose

After the inurnment for my Auntie Jo on Friday, roses were passed out to those gathered, and when I arrived home from Saskatoon much later the same day, my rose, which had been caught between coats in the back seat of our car, had completely drooped. But I cut the stem and put Auntie's rose into a vase she had given me some years ago, and I am still enjoying it beside me as I write my own little tribute to a special lady.

Auntie Jo's initials were J.A.M., for Johanna Adelheid Maria, or so I learned at my cousin's house after my godmother's funeral. I bear an anglicized version of her first name as my middle name, and share her third name, grateful that her presence also remains with me in my names. She was always Auntie Jo to me, but when I wrote to her, she was Auntie Johanna.

She found her way back to her Creator on May 1st after living on earth for an amazing 94 years. The eldest daughter in a family of nine, she spent her early years looking after her six rambunctious brothers -- her two sisters arrived during her mid to late teens -- and helping her mom keep the home fires burning. As a young woman, she went off on adventures, leaving small town Saskatchewan to work in other small towns and eventually, the big city of Vancouver -- at a time when women were mostly expected to get married and have babies instead of careers.

Auntie Jo did get married after four proposals from my Uncle Scotty, a character unlike any I have ever known -- unapologetically himself, but the kind of guy who turned strangers into friends in short order. They had two kids, four grandkids, and thus far, two great-grandchildren. She met her youngest great grandchild not quite two weeks before she died, and the pictures taken were just beautiful. She was clearly thrilled with little Jacob!

Auntie Jo's life was filled with music -- she had a beautiful voice that landed her the female lead in a community version of HMS Pinafore, and throughout her life, she sang in several church choirs. She learned to play the saxophone mid-life, and became a square dancer after Uncle Scotty died. She taught my dad to dance when he was small. She was considered to be a beauty by my Auntie Barbara, who thought I look like her (I took that as a high compliment). More importantly, in spite of her own strong opinions, Auntie Jo was a good woman who loved many, many people. Even her musician friends at her funeral received that love when the priest announced, "Johanna asks that the choir be first in line for the funeral lunch"! And so it was.

Looking back on my relationship with Auntie Jo, I have always had a sense of what a special godmother she was. Whenever I visited, she introduced me to people in her life not only as her niece, but as her goddaughter -- with a pride that surprised me. She taught me macrame, and took me out for lunches. She made special trips to be at my first communion and high school graduation, decorated my wedding cake, and phoned me on every birthday (though I wasn't quite as good at remembering to phone her on her birthday). She was always at the top of my Christmas card list.

Auntie Jo's family was an integral part of my growing up. Almost every time our family visited Saskatoon, their home was our "home base," so we played together as little kids (the two youngest always being the family puppies when we played "house") and we came to know each other well as we grew up. We all went camping to Vancouver Island the summer I was thirteen, a magical trip that still holds many memories for me. We were all cheering together at the Edmonton Oilers' game the night Gretzky scored his 50th goal in 39 games (back when tickets were more affordable). Her kids are among my favourite cousins, and though we've lost touch in the busy years of raising our own families, sitting down for a good but brief catch-up with Auntie Jo's daughter after the funeral on Friday was like picking up where we left off. I wish there was more time for cousin relationships, and less distance! 

My last in-person visit with my godmother was almost two years ago, when we watched the Edmonton Oilers win a playoff game together. Since then, her granddaughter has won gold and silver medals as a Canadian Women's hockey player in her own right, and the picture below is of Auntie Jo wearing Hailey's gold. She was so very proud of all her offspring, and rightly so. 

Auntie Jo, thank you so much for your presence in my life, for your unwavering support and love, and for not only being a wonderful godmother, but a good friend. I am sure the heavenly choir sounds even better with you in it! I will miss you, especially on our birthdays...

Until we meet again... pass my greetings to everyone there with you...

Keb Mo' sings a song for Earth Day

I missed posting anything about Earth Day last weekend, though I was very aware of it for a lot of different reasons. Every day should be Earth Day, really, so it's not to late to share our feelings about our wonderful planet in different ways.

Here's Keb Mo's way. If you've never run into him before, I recommend having a listen to his other music. My best pal, Cathy, introduced me to him some years ago through his song, God Trying to Get Your Attention, and I was hooked.

But his Earth Day song this year is something else altogether, backed up with so many images of earth's beauty and her struggle against single-use plastic. I love the images of the kids doing what they can to make a difference, and though we have a long way to go, the song is brimming with hope. Enjoy!

Thanks, I needed that!

How are you doing these days? 

Me, I've been feeling the weight of the world a bit too much.

So when my sister sent me this video this morning, I thanked her, and immediately decided to share it with you, too. Music has a way of lifting us up, and it's been too long since I've offered any here. Time to remedy that!

Have a happy day!

Where there's life...

There's hope.

In spite of the darkness and worry of what's happening across the world, we cling to hope, to prayer, to signs of new life, to colour, to small bits of joy and courage wherever we can find them.

There are hundreds, if not thousands of images and sayings and stories and songs to encourage us, but for me, the emergence of a trinity of tiny pepper plants from black soil speaks volumes about the tenacity of life... and hope.

Really, all we can do is stick together and support each other, and send our heartfelt concern and encouragement to those who need it most in whatever tangible ways we can. Click here to see Global Citizen's list of 22 ways to to help Ukraine on the ground where the trouble is, with everything from monetary donations, to calling on large corporations and politicians to do the right things, to following journalists on social media and learning more about what's actually happening.

From almost 8,000 km away, it's hard to know exactly what to do, but keeping the situation in our hearts is a good start... and if you're willing and able to join in Taize prayer from Edmonton on Sunday at 7 pm MST, that can't hurt, either.

https://www.facebook.com/events/736064777374788

We'll start with a gorgeous Ukrainian chant from the community of Taize, fill our hearts and souls with Christ's peace in the songs, silence and scripture of the hour, and send our peace where it's most needed... 

Please join us if you're able, and invite your friends if they're so inclined.

Simple Suggestion #285 -- Dance!

My dearest friend and a dozen or so of her friends from across Western Canada have welcomed me into their Saturday morning 5Rhythms group. Early every Saturday morning, via an online video call platform, we get together to move to music. My friend comes up with a 20-25 minute playlist of 5 songs of different types -- Flowing, Staccato, Chaos, Lyrical, and Stillness, and we enjoy embodying the songs by moving to them in different ways. The rhythms themselves form a wave that peaks with high activity in the middle (chaos) and comes back to stillness, a quiet and contemplative state. We conclude with silent meditation for ten minutes. Moving and meditating with the ladies never fails to touch me deeply.

The dancing part of our time together reminds me of when I was small, and my mom would play music in our living room. We had a really colourful rug, and I remember pretending it was magical, and that it gave me the power to be a great interpretive dancer, graceful and strong, and I would perform for adoring crowds in my mind, often with my sisters. For some reason, the songs that come to mind are Puppet on a String (chaos?) by Paul Mauriat and his orchestra (see below), followed by their version of Love is Blue (lyrical?). I suspect we asked Mom to play that record over and over and one song just followed the other.

The meditative part of our 5Rhythms time together is powerful too... just having a sense that we are all joined together in silence -- opening ourselves to quiet and peace -- somehow bonds us together even though many of us are strangers to each other.

As a practitioner of centering prayer most days, I have regular opportunities for quiet and peace -- it's the dance that I find I really need. In moving to music, I hear it in a different way because it is embellished with my own physicality. Dancing enriches the music experience, even though I'm not trained as a dancer and often feel a bit awkward in my movement. If a song has lyrics, those words find a deeper meaning somehow. If it is instrumental, the beauty of a certain instrument or the piece as a whole may resonate more deeply within me. Movement becomes a different form of active meditation as my body and mind work together to create a physical representation of something almost intangible. And that physical representation fills me with endorphins and probably other healthy neurological things I don't know about that combat stress and anxiety and are good for me, body and soul.

So the next time a piece of music catches your attention and you're able to move, why not dance? And invite those around you to dance with you! Life is too short to worry about how awkward we look or who might be laughing... and in my experience, often those who laugh wish they could lose their inhibitions long enough to join in.

If you find you're taking life too seriously, dance is one way to lighten things up! Here's the light-hearted Puppet on a String. If you don't want to get up and dance right now, just let your hands be the puppeteer... and have a happy day!

Sharing more music -- Hometown, by Double Double

The kids have done it again... Today Double Double released their entire collection of new tunes, and as a proud mama, I'm sharing the link to Hometown, their EP, here. 

Left on the Light tells the story of a waning relationship. So Fine is about a couple who keep flying off in different directions and who look forward to being together. Lucky is a reminder to appreciate what we have (a favourite theme of mine here in these moodlings!) and Downtown Girl just rocks and rolls.

Enjoy! And have a good weekend!

They're So Fine

They've done it again... Double Double has put out a catchy new song with a pretty neat little music video that I can't help but share here for your enjoyment. 

I've been following the band's work quite closely because I happen to know them, and this tune has been one of my favourites since the very first time I heard it in a crowded little place on Whyte Avenue. It's taken directly from the lives of two band members who relied on long-distance phone calls for a while because their work kept them apart quite a bit in their relationship's beginnings. Big kudos to the video creator(s) -- nice to see the Edmonton skyline in the background of this fun little stroll taken by the band and their musical instruments! The walkers, in order, are Neil, Christina, Jessamy, and Landon.

If you like this tune as much as I do, you can add it to your music through most of the big music apps: here's are links to Spotify and Bandcamp. And if you leave the band a comment, I'm sure they'd love to hear your feedback. 

Way to go, Double Double and friends! And Matt, I love the video! Well done.

A small tribute to Dr. Walter Moser

Walter, centre, playing French horn

When I walked (with considerable trepidation) into the Ed North amphitheatre for the first class of my university education, I had no idea that I was about to meet an important new friend, though I wouldn't actually call him friend for some years.  

Two professors stood on the stage, only one whose name I can clearly remember. The younger man, dressed in corduroys and a loud sweater, left no lasting impression on me other than his clothing, but the elder, Dr. Walter Moser, wore suit and tie and had a thick Austrian accent that took a few minutes for me to understand. Once my ear had acclimatized, I found myself fascinated -- and amused -- by him and his dry sense of humour, as he taught us basic undergrad biology.

I looked forward to Dr. Moser's lectures much more than the other prof's. I can't really remember any lecture details so many years later, but I do remember Dr. Moser's little jokes, usually directed at himself. He would rattle through his notes and chuckle whenever something about the natural world amused him, when his chalk broke, or the slide projector malfunctioned, or a student question struck him as particularly interesting. Because the class was large, I don't think I ever interacted with him directly, just completed what he called "multiple guess" exams, and was sad when the class ended in December that year and there would be no more of Dr. Moser's gentle humour in my life.

Fast forward maybe eight years. At the end of a Taizé Prayer evening at St. Paul's United Church on campus, my very musical friend, Karen, was helping me lead the prayer with only guitar, voices, and her trumpet. As we often did, we asked if there were any musicians in the crowd who would be willing to help us lead our monthly musical meditation. 

We'd asked the same question many times without results, but this time, a couple approached and explained that they were delighted to find our prayer, that Walter played french horn and cello, Clara played piano and flute, and that they had come very early to the prayer, expecting the church to be so full that they might not get seats. They had heard about Taizé from a friend in Innsbruck who had been there, and they were very excited about joining our music group. And so, as Clara recently reminded me, they joined our very next rehearsal in my living room a few weeks later, using music I had photocopied for them until they could purchase their own books.

From then on, Clara and Walter became invaluable members of our musicians' group, and a beautiful and prayerful musical collaboration was born. Karen and I took to calling Walter "the Maestro" because he had a fine sensibility when it came to how the music should be sung and played -- I fondly remember him reminding us to go gently on the words "in laetitia" and suggesting not to sing "Dona la pace, Signore" so heavily -- "You're singing about peace, make it peaceful, but with longing!" The Mosers also brought many friends to make music, and where it had once only been Karen and me, we nearly had an orchestra!

After a few years of praying together at our monthly prayer evenings, the Mosers took a trip to Basel, Switzerland, and decided to experience Taizé themselves. It took them three trains and a bus to get to la Communité, and they thoroughly enjoyed their week there. Having an extra day before their train would take them back to Switzerland, they wanted to remain in Taizé, but their room was spoken for by new visitors. 

Having heard me announce at the beginning of many prayer evenings that Taizé was a small village "not far" from the town of Cluny in France, they  decided they could walk from Taizé to Cluny. After all, the bus ride had been only a few minutes between the two villages. Of course, after a few kilometers of carrying their heavy suitcase between them, they found themselves standing on the winding, shoulder-less road from Cluny to Taizé laughing hard. "Not far!" Clara exclaimed as she told me the story upon their return, and they both laughed again, wiping at their eyes, "it was 15 km!"

Not long after Clara and Walter's trip to Taizé we had a mix-up with music that Walter inadvertently blamed on me. He could sometimes come across as a bit gruff, and I was quite surprised by his reaction to a bit of confusion at one evening prayer. What happened was that, at Taizé, he had bought new music books with different page numbers than the North American books, and neither of us knew it beforehand. Being a very organized man, he was upset about having to scramble to find the right music, flipping pages and missing the start of each song, and he let me know in no uncertain terms.

When I pointed out the difference between our books, he was mortified to realize that he had blamed me for an honest mistake. A few days later, a package arrived in the mail with a letter of apology, an index of songs listed by titles, page numbers, and the books in which they appeared, and a music book with the "right" page numbers, matching his. It is my favourite music book because of its inscription: "From Walter Moser to MARIA." I am still deeply touched by his determination to make things right.

I don't know how long it took for me to connect the Austrian cellist with the Austrian biology prof. Longer than it should have! I think, though, it might have happened when we had a music rehearsal at Clara and Walter's acreage east of Edmonton, and he made a joke that finally reminded me of the man who stood on the stage at the Ed North amphitheatre. Walter seemed to be quite serious a lot of the time, but his eyes twinkled with mischief when glee broke through... and I'm sure that's what helped me to finally make the connection between Dr. Moser in my university years and Maestro Walter.

Regardless, I'm sure it was shortly after I told him that I had been a student of his when he and Clara invited me to bring my kids for time in the great outdoors. I don't have any really good pictures of Walter, but this is my favourite -- him wandering along their acreage cross country ski/hiking trail with my two-year-old in hot pursuit! The kids had a lovely time learning about life at the edge of the pond, chasing butterflies, and roasting wieners for lunch. I'm not sure they remember that outing anymore, but I will never forget it -- warm hospitality, and child-appropriate biology lessons.

Walter and Clara's involvement in our Taizé musicians' group lasted several years, until they decided it was time to "retire." Their absence left a huge hole in the rich music we had enjoyed making together... it was back to guitar, voices and flute (if we were lucky) -- no more cello, horn, sax, or piano, as several of the other musicians that came with the Mosers also moved on. But I kept Clara and Walter on the email list to let them know of our prayer evenings, hoping they could join us now and then.

In February of 2020, just before Covid-19, I received an email from Clara to let me know that she and Walter were downsizing and had some extra Taizé music books -- could I use them? So I had a lovely cup of tea with Clara (Walter was napping) and brought home more Taizé music books than I know what to do with. I wish I had seen Walter then, because now he is gone -- Karen called last week to let me know he has recently passed away.

Dr. Walter Moser was a biology professor who, I'm sure, inspired many of his students. I can't begin to speak to all that he accomplished in his years in academia because I don't know very much about that side of him. I am quite sure that he was a devoted father and grandfather (probably great-grandfather by now) just by the way he treated my own children, and that he passed his love of music on to his very musical family.

If you are someone with a story of Walter, or if you knew him better as Dr. Moser and don't mind sharing something in the comments below, I think that would be a wonderful thing. Because his academic career was mostly before our internet age, and because he was a humble man, it's next to impossible to know about him because he flew under the world's radar when it comes to fame and fortune. But those of us who loved him know him as someone very special, and our stories about him are definitely worth sharing.

What I know for certain is that my time with Walter the musician proved that he was a friend who was gentle, funny, talented, kind, and passionate about music -- and prayer. I will never forget the twinkle in his eye and the kindness in his smile. Certain people leave indelible marks on the hearts of those they meet, and he has definitely left his mark on mine. 

Hugs and heartfelt condolences to Clara and the family. 

Dear Walter, I look forward to making more beautiful music with you in the great beyond! I'm so grateful that you were so much more than a single-term biology professor in my life. Thank you for all the joy you brought, and the beauty of your soulful cello and exultant French horn that still resonate somewhere in my heart and soul.

Rest in peace, my friend.

Taizé Tuesday: Behüte mich, Gott

I'm finding it challenging to remember these Simple Moodlings these days. The weather has turned for the better since my last Taizé Tuesday post, so I'm outside more than indoors, and only at my computer for my daily prayer with the Brothers each afternoon or evening.

Their lovely evening prayer can be found livestreamed on the Taizé Facebook page at 12:30 pm MST, or later in the day at https://www.facebook.com/watch/taize/. This afternoon we sang this beautiful chant, which has become one of my favourites:

Behüte mich, Gott,

ich vertraue dir,

du zeigst mir den Weg zum Leben.

Bei dir ist Freude, Freude in Fülle.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S6-UneKFn2I

Keep me, O God,
for I trust in you.
You show me the path of life.
With you there is fullness of joy.

In this time of the coronavirus, it's a wonderful psalm prayer. No matter what happens, God is with us, showing us the way home. Plus I'm a sucker for images of Taize as I knew it, and the gorgeous oboe and flute descants. Enjoy!

There's suddenly more time to pray

I had great intentions at the beginning of this Lent to double my meditation time. For the past year or so, I've been doing my best to spend 20 minutes every morning in contemplative prayer. For me, that means sitting, usually with dog close by and a cup of tea, lifting people in my life up to God one by one, and then just resting in God's presence. Of course, my monkey mind runs all over the place, but the point of contemplation is to come to an awareness of my thoughts, and turn them back to God.

Sometimes I sit for twenty minutes and never get back to God more than once or twice! But God knows I'm trying -- at least I've set aside the time.

My hope for this Lent, which began three weeks ago, was to add a 20-minute evening meditation. Which didn't happen -- until this week. Since Monday, I've been lighting a candle and sitting at about 9 pm, and my monkey mind seems to be a little less frenetic later in the day.

Of course, the big motivation for finally meeting my Lenten resolution is our current pandemic, and all the anxiety that the world seems to be feeling right now, come home in my own psyche. If we've ever needed contemplation and calm, now is the time. So I'm suddenly making more time to pray.

And then the Taizé Community ups the ante! This week, the Community closed its doors and sent all pilgrims and volunteers home (and maybe some brothers, too). But always concerned about hospitality, it has invited us all into its evening prayer through online streaming via Facebook. 8:30 pm prayer in France occurs at 1:30 pm here (MST). The first two days, I was doing other things at 1:30, but the prayer was recorded and can be viewed as soon as it concludes.

Still, I love the idea that there are many of us around the world who are able to join with the men in that little room on a hill in the Burgundy region of France. 3.4 thousand of us joined today's evening prayer from all over the globe, and personally, I delighted in singing the alto (for the chants I knew) with the brothers, who supply the melody, tenor and bass lines. It's international ecumenical prayer without any of us having to burn fossil fuels to participate.

Knowing that I am praying with people from Adelaide, Belfast, Istanbul, Jakarta, Modena, Posnan, Seoul, Turku -- the list goes on -- somehow makes the prayer feel deeper, all our voices calling together to God from across the planet.

It feels right. And I don't doubt that God is listening.

If you would like to join us tomorrow at 1:30, or later tonight for a replay, here's a link to the Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/taize/.

Things to believe in...

My best friend sent me this gorgeous tune this morning, sung by the Northern Lights Chorale from Minnesota. Her church choir will sing it tomorrow. Enjoy!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PT-VdH2lwZk

Simple Suggestion #279... Do something just for joy's sake

We human beings are great at talking ourselves out of doing things, especially when we think that no one even notices what we do, so sometimes we miss out on things that simply bring us joy. But these students and teachers at the Saint James Music Academy in Vancouver know the fun of making music with friends and expressing themselves is more important than making a big splash. I love how this little two minute video celebrates their participation in something much bigger than they will be on their own. Enjoy!

http://www.karmatube.org/videos.php?id=8243

Sunday Reflection on a Monday: We are all one body

I found myself short of time and words for moodling yesterday, Corpus Christi Sunday, but this morning during centering prayer, so many words came to me about how every person on our planet is part of one body, God's presence in the world, through our many faiths. Faith means that we believe in beauty, goodness and truth, though we express our belief in God in so many different ways. And I can't help but feel that we really need to pray together more often, in spite of our differences.

This coming Sunday, there's a perfect opportunity for people of different faiths to pray together for peace. Our Southside Taizé Musicians group and the community of the Sai Baba Centre on Whyte Avenue are joining together in a Prayer for Peace, inviting people of all faiths. If you are in the vicinity, I hope you will join us for silent meditation followed by two peace chants and refreshments. Perhaps our combined prayer will help with the peace process with North Korea, or give some respite to other places of conflict. One never knows how prayer is answered.

Our prayer this Sunday is inspired by the brothers of the Taizé community, who gather every Sunday evening with the young pilgrims who come to them from around the world. All sit in silent meditation for a time, and at the end, the brothers lead a simple prayer-song for peace. It is one of the most powerful prayer experiences I have ever had, and it is what we will do on Sunday with everyone who gathers with us.

Humanity's body has been divided into factions for too long. It's time to become aware of our oneness and to lift our hearts and souls to the God who makes us one, to pray for peace among all.

Praying for so many things

This evening, we will have our monthly ecumenical prayer at Grace United Church (6215 104 Ave) at 7 p.m. Please join us if you are able. I find that I have so many things/people to pray for...

My family
A friend who is dying
Others who aren't well
Our immigrants and refugees
Wisdom in our political leaders
Peace in places where it is lacking
Care for our planet and its climate, in particular
The lovely Syrian friends I bowled with yesterday (their first time)

Just to name a few...

But really, God knows everything in my heart before I utter a word. So this evening, I will simply rest in God's compassion, without asking for anything, trusting that God is caring for everything without me saying anything. We won't be singing the chant posted below at this evening's prayer, but it's become the song that plays in the back of my mind every time I pray.

In the words of Brother Roger:

You love us. You love us.
Taking everything upon yourself
you open a way for us toward faith
toward trust in God who wants neither suffering
nor human distress. Spirit of the Living Christ,
Spirit of compassion, Spirit of praise
your love for each one of us will never go away.

Who/what are you praying for? If you feel like leaving a comment, I'll pray with you, too.

Ecumenical Prayer in 2017

Happy New Year, everyone! I hope it will be a year of hope and prayer, a year of communion, mercy and peace. I'm starting the year by sharing our annual prayer schedule, and inviting my readers to join us if possible.

When I visited Taizé last fall, I was struck by the humility of the brothers, and the way they live their lives without drawing any attention to themselves or their work. And it dawned on me that they would probably prefer that our prayer simply be called prayer rather than "Taizé Prayer." So our posters look a little different this year. And our prayer will be a little different this year, too, as the brothers don't limit the silence in the prayer to five minutes, but allow for a longer period of quiet so that God has more time to speak to the soul.

We will still pray with the beautiful meditative music of Taizé, incorporate a piece of scripture read in different languages, and offer a time for intercessory prayer, but we have made these small changes to be more in line with the spirit of the Taizé community. I hope that if you live in the Edmonton area, you will have the opportunity to join us for prayer. And if you are a FaceBook user, I would invite you to click here to find our FaceBook page. If you "like" it, you will get updates about our prayer schedule and hopefully a few interesting stories now and then about what's happening in the Taizé community.

A blessed 2017 to all!

A day in Taizé

It couldn't have been any better, I don't think. A full week in Taizé was not something I ever thought I would be able to experience, but when my best friend visited me in August and talked about her plans to visit Taizé in October, my wonderful husband said, "Why don't you go, too?" He knew how much it would mean to me, and I'm so grateful to him.

For those of you who follow my moodlings, you'll know that I've had a longstanding love for Taizé. In the summer of 1985 I attended a Lutheran-Catholic Student's conference in Ontario, where I was first introduced to the music of Taizé. It took a while before I found out about the ecumenical community of brothers connected to the music, several years after I had started participating in a music group that held prayers in a few Christian churches in my city.

It wasn't until our family travelled to Europe in 2014 that I had an opportunity to actually visit the small French village of Taizé and really understand what the community was all about. My two young adult daughters went with me, and we stayed for three wonderful days that left me wishing I could experience an entire week of life there.

Now I have, and it was definitely worth the effort and the jetlag! Here are some images from the week, with a bit of explanation to give you a an idea of a typical day at Taizé:

An autumn sunrise over the hills of Burgundy, 

from the top of the hill at Taizé. 

Three hours earlier, the stars were incredible, too -- 

every night that week we had a clear view of them...

On the walk to the church for morning prayer...

Early morning, before the bells call everyone to pray. 

The Church of Reconciliation is always a peaceful place, 

with many people quietly praying at all hours.

Prayer with the entire assembly takes place three times a day,

with incredibly beautiful music, scripture and silence.

There is also a silent prayer for peace 

at the beginning of every week...

After morning prayer, a typical breakfast -- bread, butter, 

and coffee/cocoa (but I already ate the two little chocolate sticks, I think.)

Meals are ample, but very simple. Other meals include a spoon, a beverage bowl,

some pasta or lentils with rice, maybe some cheese or a sausage link

with fruit and cookies for dessert -- and seconds after everyone has had firsts...

Passing out the handouts and singing a chant 

 before the English Bible Introduction with Brother Matthew (left),

who was translated into German by Christof, the man beside him

(though Matthew often corrected Christof's translation -- with hilarious results). 

The brothers offered the best lessons on mercy that I've ever heard...

Reflecting on the questions from the Bible Introduction near the little pond in the park

known as St. Stephen's source before lunch...

The brothers leave the Church of Reconciliation

 at the end of the noon prayer...

Waiting for lunch. Why does prayer make me so hungry?

Grace is always a Taizé chant led by our "angels" (young volunteers)

Betka, from the Czech Republic, and Helena, from Germany.

The conversations during our meals out in the sunshine are multilingual -- or

sometimes in sign language if we don't share a common tongue...

 Two p.m. choir practice with Gregor,

a Hungarian with a strong sense of music...

Group sharing about the questions from the Bible Introduction

 in the afternoon, in Margo's "living room"

(she was staying in a tent for the week).

Our adult group consisted of two Dutch, two Germans, two Swiss, 

two Canadians, and one from the US, all of whom spoke English, 

and all of whom enjoyed one another's company. 

The depth of sharing in the group was incredible from the start...

Another walk to St. Stephen's source, where

two storks were having their supper...

and I walked the 18 stations of the Way of the Gospel

(the raising of Lazarus below)...

After supper, our sharing group washes pots and pans

and sings in multi languages as we work... fun! 

"We are washing in the light of God, 

we are washing in the light of God!"

Everyone knows how to sing Allouette (who knew?)...

A meeting with Brother Alois (left), Taizé's community leader,

 who tells us about the young brother from Bangladesh being welcomed

into the community at that evening's prayer 

and the brothers' work with L'Arche in Bangladesh...

The end of evening prayer.

Many young people are already 

over at Oyak, the community's concession area, 

for snacks and friendship, 

but many also stay longer in the church to pray and sing...

This is the basic structure of a day in the Taizé Community, but there is so much more to it, of course. Words and pictures can't really convey the peace and joy of the place, the prayer that flows like breathing, the beauty of the countryside, or the warmth of the pilgrims who spend a week in the community. It was a perfect place for my soul to settle... the music, prayer and friendships touched me more deeply than I can say,,, and the happy tears that frequently flowed down my cheeks signaled many "God moments" that will stay with me forever.

If you ever have the opportunity to make a pilgrimage to Taizé, the little village on the hilltop in Burgundy, I can't recommend it enough!

Encouragement

I've been hesitant to post the video below because I don't want to offend my readers' sensibilities. But ever since the Edmonton Folk Music Festival in August, this song has stuck with me, the chorus of Whoa-Oh's bouncing around in my head. And after receiving some rather unhappy news this morning, I decided it was time to revisit Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats' slightly naughty song, S.O.B., for a bit of a pick me up. There's just something about the melody (and the way Nathaniel dances) that lifts me up...

In spite (or perhaps because) of its language, S.O.B. was a real crowd pleaser at the end of the Folk Fest this year -- thousands of us stood on the hill and sang its chorus of Whoa-ohs at the top of our lungs to bring the band back on stage for a lively encore, to which the whole hillside danced. My best friend and I were too close to the speakers for me to make out many of the lyrics, so I looked this video up the next day and realized it was a pretty cheerful hurting song -- an alcoholic's lament, if you will.

"My heart is breaking, hands are shaking, bugs are crawling all over me," pretty much describes the kind of misery in which we find ourselves at certain crossroads in our lives. Change is never easy, but we have no choice but to keep on moving forward in spite of rotten circumstances. Sometimes it helps to swear a little, laugh through the tears, and dance to some rowdy music. So I offer this song in that spirit, especially to my friends who are struggling (you know who you are). Keep on keeping on, and know that you are loved! And really, I'd be happy to get you a drink anytime...

My prayer chair

These days, this is the view from my morning meditation place...

And this is my mantra... "You, you who love us, source of life."

Good Friday, again

I can't believe how quickly time goes. Here we are, at the end of Holy Week. As always, if you are in the Edmonton area, I invite you to join in two beautiful ecumenical events...

The cross at the top of Mount Tzouhalem
near Cowichan Bay, BC

The first is the 36th Annual Outdoor Way of the Cross, which begins at George Spady Centre (10015 105A Avenue) at ten a.m on Good Friday. I love this way to mark the day because has a strong social justice component, it attracts people of all ages and Christian denominations, and there's just something really amazing about being together and walking with our inner city sisters and brothers for two hours in an atmosphere of prayer and song. This year's theme is "Transformation -- Ourselves and Our World," and will include reflection on the UN's sustainable development goals.

The second is the Good Friday Taizé Prayer Around the Cross, 7 p.m. at Providence Renewal Centre (3005 119 Street). It's a contemplative prayer with music, scripture and silence, and a different way to be open to God's presence in our hustle-bustle world. I prefer it over Good Friday services, because it's a reflective space without so many words. In the community of Taizé, France, you can bet that the young people present will sing and pray well past midnight, but our prayer will run a little over an hour.

All are welcome to both events. Join your fellow Christians to pray and reflect on God's deep love for all God's children. And if you're not in the Edmonton area, have a beautiful Good Friday wherever you may be.

It is well with my soul

As I've mentioned before, I have the privilege of accompanying three of the able-bodied young adults who are assistants to our L'Arche core members with disabilities. Basically, that just means that I listen to the assistants, appreciate them, and encourage them on what is sometimes a very difficult journey. And as I've mentioned before, often I find that in the listening and sharing, I inadvertently receive really beautiful gifts.

Last week during an accompaniment session, I heard about Mariette*, a core member who is struggling with pain that the doctors are unable to identify at present. The team of assistants who are trying to help her are baffled, and things at the house are a bit chaotic as she is unable to communicate the problem, her schedule has become unpredictable, she doesn't sleep well at night and just isn't like her usual self.

L'Arche assistants consistently amaze me with their patience and love as they live with their core member friends, and the mutuality of their relationships flow both ways -- assistants often share anecdotes about how the ones they care for care deeply for them in return. My concern as an accompanier is always with the wellness of the assistants in their roles as caregivers. Though it had been a particularly taxing week for the young woman who shared with me about Mariette, when I asked her how her spirits were doing in the midst of the struggle, she played me the song below on her phone and told me, "I listen to this song every night before I sleep, and it really is well with my soul."

The video below isn't the exact version that she played for me. Providence led me to this version, which just came out just this week, with an album to be released Friday by young mom and singer-songwriter Andrea Assad. It gives me goosebumps with its simplicity and beauty. Her voice is a treasure, don't you think? And I really wish her well! (You can find her website here.)

The hymn's lyrics were written by a man named Horatio Spafford, a well-to-do Presbyterian businessman who suffered several serious calamities in his life, the worst being the loss of 4 daughters in the collision of two ships at sea. As he travelled near the place where the disaster occurred while on his way to catch up with his grieving wife, who was the only one to survive the original journey, these words came to him. In the following years, the Spaffords' losses were seen as divine punishment by their church, but that didn't fit with their understanding of God, so they sold everything and went to Jerusalem to help found a Christian group who provided soup kitchens, hospitals and orphanages for poor Muslim, Jewish and Christian people there.

Coming from a Catholic background, I had never heard Horatio Spafford's hymn before (every Christian denomination seems to have developed its own hymns and ignored all others, somehow, which is another good reason for ecumenism!) The melody is gorgeous, and while I struggle a little with some of the lyrics, I find it deeply moving, especially knowing about the Spaffords' struggles, the struggles in Mariette's situation, and the strength and solace the song has given in both cases. My young assistant friend had no way of knowing what a gift this song was to me in the week that I missed my godfather's funeral. We all come up against "sorrows like sea billows" on occasion, but worship music's potency can bring us healing and hope.

Whatever struggles and challenges you may be facing, may it also, somehow, be well with your soul -- simply because God loves you and never leaves you, no matter what. Have a good Lent.

*I use pseudonyms for all my L'Arche friends.