Sunday Reflection: No fighting!

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/
1/1a/Donkey_in_Clovelly%
2C_North_Devon%2C_England.jpg

Today's reflection is brought to you by
Zechariah 9: 9-10 and Matthew 11:29-30.

You invite us to rejoice,
O God,
to shout our joy
because you
are the source
of all that is good,
triumphant and victorious!

You are also humble enough
to take our human form
and ride upon a donkey.

Even in such humility
you have the power
to cut off the chariots
and war horses,
commanding peace and justice.

Your reign extends over all the earth
when we listen to the beauty,
goodness and truth
that you have placed
in our hearts and souls.

All we need to do
is to come to you,
absorb your gentleness and humbleness,
and find rest
from our burdens.

Give our war-bent leaders wisdom
to follow your way of peace,
and heal the divisions
within us and our world.

Help us to reach for your gentleness
every day of our lives.

+Amen.

* * * * * * *

How often we hear the line about our king coming to us, humble and riding on a donkey, usually in the liturgies connected to Christ the King or Palm Sunday, other times as well. But it was the idea of a king on a donkey, cutting off chariots and warhorses that arrested my thoughts this morning. My mind was filled with a Monty-Python-esque image of a king tearing around on a little donkey (a small king with a large crown and a flying Superman cape), outracing the armies marching to battle, leaving them standing stock still, dumbfounded by the aura of peace and strength surrounding him. A comical image, perhaps, but what if it could be real?

I've never been fond of the idea of God as king. Kings are impersonal in their inaccessibility. But this image of a little guy on a donkey rather than a magnificent steed works for me. If only we had a leader down at our level, who could stop us all in our tracks, preventing us from engaging in the words and deeds of violence that arise from our own woundedness. One who, like a loving parent, could say, "no fighting!" soothe our internal insurrections, and bring us to peaceful harmony with all those around us, whether they be powerful CEOs or the people who pick bottles in the back alley.

The fact of the matter is that the God of peace is always there for each and every one of us, encouraging us to find the compassion within us, and working to heal our hurts. But we need to be aware and to cooperate, to see God's presence in all those around us, and to remember that God loves us and is present to us all equally. 

We only need to ask for help to do it, and it begins.

Today, I pray for our world leaders as we struggle through this pandemic, that they may act with humility and justice, and ride donkeys rather than war horses. 

I also ask God's help for the Brisson family, who are mourning the loss of their 23-year-old daughter and sister, Izzy. May all who reach out in compassion and support help them to find peace and rest from their twin burdens of sorrow and grief...

+Amen.

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/.

Sunday reflection: A prayer for the common good

Today's reflection is brought to you by
Romans 5:1-8.

You are our peace,
O God.

Your grace is our hope.

Even in our sufferings,
hope in you will
teach us to endure,
to become who we are meant to be,
to live toward your glory
for the sake of all your creation.

Our weakness has been strengthened in you,
because you have poured your abundant love
over us and all your creation.

That is the reason for our hope!

Remind us
in this time of crisis
that we are to act in the best interests
of our world community,
in the best interests of all that you have made.

Protect us from anxiety
and lead us to generosity.

Bless those
whose health and energies are most severely affected
by this pandemic,
and especially,
those who care for them.

May our prayer and care
fill them with your hope and strength!

Make us mindful of the good of all beings
as we move ahead,
aware that we are deeply connected
to all that you have made.

Help us to share your abundance,
your hope,
and to love one another
in all that we do.

+Amen

* * * * * * *

This has been a challenging week as we've gone from life as we always knew it to "a new normal," in the words of our local Chief Medical Officer of Health. It's a new normal that fits with a lot of our voluntary Lenten practices --  except now we are involuntarily giving up many sources of entertainment -- sports, theatre, dining out, community recreation, etc.

The list of closures and cancellations for local events and venues is growing daily, and we find ourselves using words like "social distancing" and "self-isolation." Our lives are being pared down more severely than we would choose. But rather than take these things as deprivation, why not translate them into personal "retreat"?

These changes are necessary in order to "flatten the curve" that is this pandemic known as COVID-19 so that we can cope with an illness that threatens us all in the weeks and months ahead. We don't want to overwhelm our healthcare systems by all getting sick at the same time.

I won't deny the fact that changes like these produce anxiety -- change at any time is a challenge. But I'm trying to see what's happening as a wake-up call for our human race, an opportunity to step back from the hectic, high-stress societies we have created, and to recognize that it's not our jobs or our possessions that give us value, but who we are and how we care for one another. I'm thinking especially of the people in Sicily, singing together from their balconies. I think they have the right idea.

If there is a silver lining to all this, it might be that in stepping back, we will find better ways to care for the common good of all creation. We can learn to be more generous, to seek out those in need and offer assistance in many different ways. Mainly, being a source of calm and care.

So I'm not writing about Laudato Si: On Care for Our Common Home this weekend. Instead, I'm thinking and praying about this pandemic, and recalling the last few lines of St. Francis' Canticle of Creation, from which Pope Francis took his encyclical's title. These lines remind us of our mortality and call us to patience and peace, just as this pandemic does. These are Francis' words:

Praised be You,

my Lord,

through those who give pardon for your love

and bear infirmity and tribulation.

Blessed are those who endure in peace

for by you,

Most High,

they shall be crowned.

Praised be You, 

my Lord,

through our Sister Bodily Death

from whom no one can escape....

Blessed are those 

whom death will find 
in your most holy will,

for the second death 
will do them no harm.

I praise and bless my Lord

and give you thanks

and serve you with great humility.

For all those who will not make it through this pandemic, for all leaders and caregivers, and for all of us, that we remain in God's peace and grace and hope!

+Amen.

Laudato Si Sunday Reflection: Christ's fire in our hearts

This week's reflection is brought to you by
Luke 12:49-53.

You came to bring fire to the earth,
O Christ,
but not the fires blazing due to climate change.

Your fire
is the fire that should burn
in each of us --
fire for justice and peace,
fire for community and harmony,
fire for equality and goodness,
beauty and truth.

But we are divided
by our desires
and what you want for us.

Help us to see
love
as the source of all goodness
and to put it,
not possessions,
as the center of our lives.

Let your true fire
burn within us.

+Amen.

* * * * * * *

This week's piece of Laudato Si: On Care for Our Common Home, fits quite well with Sunday's gospel reading in that it focuses on Chapter 2, section 7, The Gaze of Jesus (you can access the entire document by clicking here). Paragraphs 96-100 have me thinking about what it would be like to see our present world through Jesus' eyes. What would our world be like if the fire of  Jesus' love, the fire that burns through all the clutter in our society and in our hearts and souls, was our guiding force?

I like this section of the encyclical, because it reminds me that if Jesus and I were to go for a walk, he'd be as happy as I am to walk down to the river and just watch the ducks for a while. He might like spreading soil amendment from my compost pile, and eating garden vegetable soup at our dinner table. But what would he think of all our computer gadgets? The noise of traffic? How my husband is stressing about impending job cuts under our new Premier?

Paragraph 96 says that Jesus was always reminding his disciples of the intimate relationship between God and God's creatures. In the scriptures he often reminds us about how God clothes the lilies in splendor, notices every sparrow -- and counts every hair on our heads.

Jesus also "often stopped to contemplate the beauty sown by his Father, and invited his disciples to perceive a divine message in things," says paragraph 97, to the point of using creation in his teachings and parables and thus indicating that he was a nature-lover who was deeply aware of and in love with the great Lover who had created everything around him.

In paragraph 98, Pope Francis and his letter-writing team note that "Jesus lived in full harmony with creation, and others were amazed" -- the others, of course, being those who witnessed him walking on water, calming the storms, and enjoying the fruits of the earth. Jesus wasn't someone who "despised the body, matter and all the things of the world" -- he noticed and appreciated life in a holistic way. And yet, there are long periods in Christianity where so-called spiritual ideals were elevated so far above ordinary moments of daily life -- like birth, death, sleep, sex, food, drink and work -- that "unhealthy dualisms... disfigured the Gospel."

The end of paragraph 98 notes that Jesus was a carpenter who spent a lot of his life as a labourer, endowing work with a holiness of its own. He didn't let big theological ideas unbalance his love for life as a whole even though he was God. He was able to see the big picture, and the way he lived gave extra dignity to our human existence and its day-to-day work and play.

I like the idea of Jesus
being part of the Green movement.
No idea where this photo-shopped pic
originated, but kudos to the person
who created it!

The fact that Jesus came to live in the middle of creation gives everything a sacredness: "One person of the Trinity entered into the created cosmos, throwing his lot with it, even to the cross... Christ is at work in a hidden manner in the natural world as a whole, without thereby impinging on its autonomy" (paragraph 99). The fact that God entered creation as a human being is a sign of how loved and valued we and the rest of creation are. God didn't create the universe and leave us on our own, but joins in the life we live and knows firsthand what creation is all about. Jesus saw -- and continues to see -- the world through eyes like ours.

The section concludes with paragraph 100, which says "the risen One is mysteriously holding [the creatures of this world] to himself and directing them toward fullness as their end." But what does an earth living out of this kind of fullness look like? How does Jesus see it? The old question, "What Would Jesus Do?" applies not only to our relationships with each other, but also to how we treat our earth and live our lives.

So here's an exercise for the week ahead. Let's imagine that Jesus, the carpenter of Nazareth and son of God, moves in next door. What kind of house does he build for himself? How big is his moving van? What are his yard and garden like? Who are his friends? How does he entertain them? What does he buy at the grocery store? How does he travel around? What are the key issues affecting his vote in our next election? What does he wear? How does he spend the bulk of his time? How does he care for our earth?

And then we can imagine our lives changing to match his... and we can continue to live with his fire burning in our hearts, for all of creation's sake.

Laudato Si Sunday Reflection: Renewing our world

This Sunday reflection is brought to you by
Revelation 21:1-5a.

O God,
we await your new heaven and new earth.

You promise us newness.

But maybe the newness we await is already among us.

Your home is among us
and you already live with us.

But
we can't seem to remember that
for more than a few minutes at a time.

We forget that we can be
your comfort for the sorrowing,
your consolation for the distressed,
your compassion for the suffering.

If we walk with you
and live as you intend,
death and mourning will be no more,
crying will be no more,
pain will be no more;
joy,
love,
and peace will reign
as the first things pass away.

You will make all things new.

Please, start with us.

+Amen.

* * * * * * *

I've been thinking a lot about newness as I reflected on this week's segment of Laudato Si: On Care for Our Common Home. It mentions a few bible stories as we continue with The Wisdom of the Biblical Accounts, paragraphs 70-75 this time (they can be accessed by clicking here). As we grow into adulthood, we see that some stories in the Bible are much more than meets the eye because of their many layers of archetypal meaning.

We are reminded of the story of Cain and Abel in paragraph 70. In childhood, it was a story about giving God the best we have and looking after each other, but for Pope Francis and his writing team, it is a cautionary tale, illustrating that

Disregard for the duty to cultivate and maintain a proper relationship with my neighbour, for whose care and custody I am responsible, ruins my relationship with my own self, with others, with God and with the earth. When all these relationships are neglected, when justice no longer dwells in the land, the Bible tells us that life itself is endangered.

The story of Noah is mentioned as another cautionary tale, God's first effort to make all things new after human beings messed things up. Then we hear Laudato Si's main refrain for the second time: "These ancient stories, full of symbolism, bear witness to a conviction which today we share, that everything is interconnected, and that genuine care for our own lives and our relationships with nature is inseparable from fraternity, justice and faithfulness to others." What I really like in paragraph 71 is the line, "All it takes is one good person to restore hope!" Referring, of course, to Noah's willingness to stand out from the crowd to renew God's reign on earth.

Laudato Si then jumps to the Psalms in paragraph 72. They exhort us and all creatures to sing praise and adoration of the God who lives with and beside us. How often do we reflect on God's presence in the creatures who live with and beside us? They are surely part of the newness God is creating.

In paragraph 73 the "prophets invite us to find renewed strength in times of trial by contemplating the all-powerful God who created the universe.... the God who liberates and saves is the same God who created the universe, and these two divine ways of acting are intimately and inseparably connected." The encyclical team closes paragraph 73's musings about the prophets with a quote from Isaiah, who reminds us that God "gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless." Just what we need to hear after reading all of the earth's problems Pope Francis listed in Chapter one that might leave us feeling overwhelmed.

The Babylonian captivity, when the people of Israel were forced out of their homeland to live in exile for almost 70 years, is mentioned in paragraph 74 as an example of a time of trial and persecution that led to a deeper faith in God. God's "creative omnipotence was given pride of place in order to exhort the people to regain their hope in the midst of their wretched predicament," and the same thing happened in the early Christian era when the followers of Christ found themselves persecuted by the Roman Empire.

What's interesting to me is that all of these examples of the trials and struggles of believers throughout the Bible are held up as examples to us who face the trials and struggles that have come about because of the overuse of creation's resources through rampant consumerism and human greed. Clearly, we are in similar straits, a time when we can glean some encouragement from the way that our biblical ancestors came through trying times by trusting in God and doing what they could. If they could find their way to starting over again, surely we can cooperate with God in renewing our earth.

Paragraph 75 points out that "The best way to restore men and women to their rightful place, putting an end to their claim of absolute dominion over the earth is to speak once more of a... [God] who creates and who alone owns the world. Otherwise, human beings will always try to impose their own laws and interests on reality."

But I'll return to the last lines of paragraph 74 for the last words in this Sunday's reflection: "The God who created the universe out of nothing can also intervene in this world and overcome every form of evil. Injustice is not invincible."

Injustice is not invincible! Especially if we see the wrongs around us, and to take a stand against them. Because injustices are ingrained in our culture, we may have to become counter-cultural, to appear a little crazy for a time in order to draw attention to the particular injustices to which our sleeping world has become immune.

I doubt we'll have to build an Ark to help God make all things new, but we might have to do something even harder in this day and age -- maybe to vote Green, to NOT to take flamboyant tropical vacations and to live in solidarity with our brothers and sisters who are struggling to feed themselves and their families. To NOT buy the latest cool but unnecessary gadget or to NOT support a company that sells genetically modified foods. In other words, to BE A SIGN, a role model, and an example of doing the just thing -- even if it's only our families and friends who might notice what we're doing.

How will you Be the Change in the week ahead? For the rest of your days? We are all part of creating a new world of peace, joy, and love.

Injustice is not invincible!

River walking

It's been an emotionally heavy week, so I've been seeking solace in nature. I've probably walked 75 km, most of it along our wonderful river.

Edmonton is blessed with the most unspoiled and beautiful river valley, with at least 20 major urban parks, all of which I've walked through at one time or other, and 160 km of maintained trails. There are many paths for cycling, cross country skiing in the winter, walking and hiking, but Shadow and I have been doing a fair bit of "off-roading" of late, taking what I call coyote trails to be closer to nature and the water. When my heart and mind are in turmoil, there's something really soothing about the gentleness of the water's movement in the North Saskatchewan. Something timeless and eternal, that makes me feel like my struggles are but a ripple in the stream of life. River walking grounds me.

And there are other serendipities in walking the valley. A lengthy conversation about conservation with a fellow hiker. A pretty group of mallards who leave little wakes behind them when they paddle hard against the current. An unexpected golden delicious apple tree (probably planted years ago by someone who tossed their apple core) with sweet, ice cold fruit hanging just within reach.

For me, a walk in the valley is like a big hug from God.

Sunday Reflection: Asking for the right things

Today's reflection is brought to you by James 3:16 - 4:3.

O God,
for what shall we ask?

Not for the things that cause envy,
that place us higher than others,
not for things that create disorder,
or lead to wickedness of any kind.

No,
we should ask for wisdom from you,
your wisdom in us --
peace and gentleness,
surrender and mercy,
the deepest goodness that invites and includes others.

If we sow peace,
we harvest goodness and peace.

But sometimes,
our desires get the best of us.

It's too easy
to forget all the good we already have
and to want glamour or fame,
brilliance or beauty,
or a wealth of things
that cannot satisfy.

Remind us,
in those moments,
that we should ask for wisdom from you.

Your wisdom in us --
peace and gentleness,
surrender and mercy,
the deepest goodness that invites and includes others.

Help us to ask just for the right things.

+Amen.

Sunday Reflection: Oneness

Today's reflection is brought to you by Ephesians 2:13-18

You are our peace,
when we see that we are all created
to be one harmonious family in you.

Walls of division will fall
when we recognize you
in each other.

Hostilities will die
when we find compassion for all who suffer
because suffering comes to us all.

Your peace is clear and present
when we focus on what unites us
rather than what divides us --
when we reconcile and love.

In listening to our loving Shepherd's voice
rather than arguing about what you say,
we find peace.

Help us,
O God,
to hear you
in all things,
but especially,
in each other.

+Amen.

Sunday Reflection: Burning hearts

What does it feel like to have a burning heart?

To be consumed with love
when the voice of God speaks?

I think it happened to me this morning,
several times
as various words from scripture
filled my eyes with tears
and a longing for your presence...

Let the light of your face shine on us, O Lord...

You gave me room when I was in distress...

The Lord has set apart the faithful for himself...
the Lord hears when I call...

I will both lie down and sleep in peace;
for you alone, O Lord,
make me lie down in safety.  (Psalm 4)

Lord Jesus, open the Scriptures to us: 
make our hearts burn with love when you speak. (Gospel Acclamation)

Peace be with you... (Luke chapter 24)

And the second verse of  "Sing of One who walks beside us"

"Strangers we have walked beside him
the long journey of this day
and have told him of the darkness
that has swept our hope away.
He has offered words of comfort
words of energy and light,
and our hearts have blazed within us
as he saved us from the night.

I'm not sure why all these words hit me as they did,
but I am grateful
that you still speak to us today
of light, love and peace
in a world that so needs them.

Thank you, O God.

+Amen

Sunday Reflection: A Spirit of Peace

The Incredulity of St. Thomas by Caravaggio

A prayer for peace to surround the families and friends of the Humboldt Broncos and the truck driver... and all who grieve...

You return to us
after your ordeal
wounded
but
glorious.

Put your finger here and see my hands,
you say,
because we will recognize you by the marks of what happened to you,
and because we need to feel your warmth and solidity,
your presence among us.

Reach out your hand and put it in my side,
you say.

Are you telling us that it is possible to live with our own woundedness
as you live with yours?

Do not doubt, but believe,
you tell us.

We look at our own lives
and the many moments
when we have been wounded
by things beyond our control,
by others,
and by personal struggles,
foibles and failures.

And you stand among us
as we are wounded
by things beyond our control,
by others,
and by personal struggles,
foibles and failures.

You dare to tell us that
peace is possible.

Peace be with you,
you say.

Do not doubt, 
but believe.

In the face of horrendous accidents,
the deaths of friends,
and our mistakes and insecurities
you breathe your peace on us,
saying,
Receive the Holy Spirit. 

Blessed are those who have not seen 
and yet have come to believe.

In these days of grief and loss,
Lord,
we believe.
Help our unbelief.
Fill us all with your peace.

+Amen.

We are all children of light

After hearing today's reading from St. Paul's letter to the Thessalonians, I am smiling and shaking my head at God's wisdom -- and timing. Paul writes: But you, beloved, are not in darkness... you are all children of the light and children of the day; we are not of the night or of darkness." (1 Thessalonians 5:4a, 5) And there is a part further on in the reading (verse 11) that also fits my experience today: "Therefore, encourage one another and build up each other, as indeed you are doing."

Back story: Since my last visit to Taizé in October of last year, I have had a dream of sharing a peace prayer with communities of different faiths in our city. The Brothers of Taizé start each week with a simple Sunday evening prayer for peace, a half hour of silence that ends with a chant asking, "Grant us your peace, O Lord..." For the past year, I have been trying to connect with people of different faiths who would be open to such a prayer.

Today, through a series of fortunate events, my friend Julien and I spent a few hours meeting and praying with people of an interfaith community that is very excited about the possibility of peace prayer together. The Sri Sathya Sai Baba Centre was celebrating the birthday of their founder this afternoon, and the community offered us wonderful hospitality by means of a delicious afternoon snack, a meaningful performance about caring for creation offered by their young adults' group, heartfelt prayer in call and response chants in Hindi, Sanskrit and English, a wonderful vegetarian supper (complete with birthday cake), and lots of excellent conversation. (Stay tuned to these moodlings for information about an upcoming interfaith Peace Prayer...)

But what struck me most about our visit was the beautiful prayer just before supper, at which men and women of the community waved lamps in large circles and held the light out to all in the room, waving the light toward us as a sign that we are all filled with God's light.

It underlined for me the understanding that the names we give to God and the forms we imagine that God may take are not what is important in this life or in our prayer. What matters is that we understand that God lives and loves in every being on this planet, and that we are all children of the light no matter how we believe. In this regard, we have more in common than we can possibly understand.

O God of light,
thank you
for showing us your light,
for filling us with your light,
and for lighting our way
toward the unity and peace
you intend for all of creation.

Bless us
and remain with us
as we seek you
and find you
in each other's light.

Help us
to care for your beautiful creation
by living simply
and by recognizing your light
in all that you have made.

Show us
how to encourage one another
and build each other up
so that we may work together
until all enjoy
the peace and unity
you intend for our world.

+Amen.

When life gets a little overwhelming

My Sunday reflection is a day late this week because there's a lot to carry right now. One of our daughters has been suffering due to low iron levels and related health issues, our youngest is finding life challenging in other ways, and last week, my in-laws, who live 500 km (300 miles) away, went through a health crisis of their own, leaving us feeling a bit helpless to come up with assistance for them in a hurry. Thank goodness neighbours and friends stepped in to help out for the time it took my husband's brothers to drive to be with them.

This weekend, Lee and I made the five-and-a-half-hour journey to help out with cooking and other things that needed attention, leaving our kids to fend for themselves (fortunately, they're of an age to manage life without us for the most part). I was on call to help Lee's mom through Saturday night/Sunday morning, and felt like a bit of zombie when we arrived home last night with just enough time for me to pull together a few things for last night's ecumenical prayer, have supper, and drive to the church that was hosting the prayer.

I was feeling overwhelmed, exhausted and somewhat grumpy when I arrived. Some kind of Mother's Day this was turning out to be, I was thinking. But the community that gathered for the prayer and the music we sang together put everything into perspective once again, especially the Taizé chant below:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jN_mDJQud5A

Retourne, mon âme à ton repos,
car le Seigneur ta fait du bien.
Il a gardé mon âme de la mort.
Il essuira pour toujours les larmes de nos yeux. 

Return, my soul, to your rest,
for the Lord has been good to you.
God rescued my soul from death.
God will wipe away every tear from our eyes.

It was a perfect reminder that we are all loved and cared for even when we're feeling overwhelmed, exhausted, or grumpy. Hands much gentler than our own will wipe away our tears and hold us to God's heart, and serenity will return. It always does when we turn our struggles over to the Source of everything.

Thank you, God!

Listening to voices of love

I'm not a crowd counter, but I would guess that more than 4000 people gathered near the steps of the Alberta Legislature on Monday night, and thousands more continue to gather in other cities and towns across Canada to stand in solidarity with our grieving Muslim communities. Six of our Muslim brothers in Quebec City, members of our human family -- a computer programmer, a university professor, a pharmacist's aide, a Hallal shop keeper and two newcomers to Canada who were fathers and husbands and brothers and uncles and friends -- died when a university student shot them after their evening prayers on Sunday night.

It's not much of a stretch to link the events in Quebec to the fear and lies being spread by certain politicians in our midst who are focused on closing our borders to immigrants and refugees. It hurts to listen to them create undue fear and insult those who simply want to live in peace and security by insinuating that they are terrorists -- to the point that I'm finding it harder to listen to the news for all the political lies and finger-pointing we have to wade through to get to the real stories of families who are often fleeing terrible situations for a better life with us here. Perhaps you've seen this list from the American Centre for Disease Control already, the point being that terrorism is a poor excuse for closing borders:

Such stupid excuses to close borders are enough to make anyone lose heart. Thankfully, a friend of mine from work was doing a Toastmasters presentation last night and she reminded me why I need to continue to pay attention. We spent some time chatting about how a book called Becoming Human dragged her from her home in Aleppo, Syria, nine years ago to come to Canada and join L'Arche, a community that helps people with and without disabilities to belong with and to each other. She reminded me of the L'Arche dream to "build a world where everyone belongs," and in the process, she put the heart back into me. I realized that shutting out the world only allows the wrong rhetoric to gain strength. I need to be aware and to refute it every chance I get. Even with these moodlings.

I'm not sure how we can convince those who are living in fear of immigrants and refugees to believe that everyone belongs -- except to invite them into relationship and to treat them with such tenderness that their fear is banished. It takes time and effort, but most Muslim members of our human family seem to be more than willing to show us the way, laying down their own anger and anxiety to reach out and invite us in to be with them in peace and to pray with them. On my way home from work, I pass a mosque that has thrown up a sign since the shooting inviting passersby to get to know Islam. They are living proof of the words spoken by one Muslim man to our mayor: "We Muslims hear whispers of hate, but we just listen to voices of love."

Every single person on the planet is called to listen to voices of love and to build a world where everyone belongs. So what will you do to help?

Let's pray for peace

Every week in Taizé, the brothers of the community begin with a prayer for peace on Sunday evening. For the half hour before supper, pilgrims fill the Church of Reconciliation for silent prayer, Imagine a thousand people praying together in silence.

Silence is something that is definitely lacking in our world. It often seems that we are uncomfortable with it, because it feels like an emptiness, a void that needs to be filled somehow. In silence, our own thoughts and anxieties can seem too loud, and rather than pay attention to what's really going on in our souls, we turn on music, or the TV, anything for "background noise" or distraction. We put a wall of sound between ourselves and our hidden depths.

Unfortunately, that wall of sound also gets between us and the voice of God in our lives. We forget the story of Elijah on the mountain, waiting for God:

Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before God, but God was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but God was not in the earthquake, and after the earthquake a fire, but God was not in the fire; and after the fire, a sound of sheer silence. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. 

--1 Kings 19:11-13 

And then God and Elijah had some time to chat. In the silence.

The brothers of Taizé's silent prayer for peace is an opportunity for pilgrims to sit with their own souls for a while, to confront their own internal struggles and reach for the peace that God alone can give. They know that in a time of silence, our monkey-minds whirl around for a while, but if we give the silence a chance, we can come to a peaceful stillness where God converses with us without using words. Then our anxieties can lift and we can reach a place of true peace, the kind of peace our world really needs these days. At the end of thirty minutes of silence in Taizé, the brothers sang the beautiful chant below, and I found myself moved to tears of happiness.

Tomorrow evening, we will be praying (with a bit more silence than usual) for peace at Holyrood Mennonite Church. Please join us for our ecumenical prayer of silence and songs from Taizé at 7 p.m., followed by friendship and community.

And if you're too far afield to enjoy praying with us, please enjoy Da pacem Domine below and offer your own prayers for peace in our hearts, homes, communities and nations -- our world can always use them.

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!

A prayer for today

When Prime Minister Harper announced that Canada would send fighter jets to the Middle East to help combat ISIS/ISIL, it meant that the injustices that have caused a rise in radicalism became the concern of Canadians once again. And this morning, at the tomb of the unknown soldier, an as-yet unknown solder lost his life to what appears to be some sort of radicalism in our national capital. Another soldier died the day before yesterday, hit by a "radicalized" man in a car.

But it's not time for panic and paranoia, or mistrust. It's time for people to come together and to work to end the injustices that cause young men and women to want to become martyrs for organizations that promote violence against their brothers and sisters. It's time to work for the health of those suffering from addictions or mental illness. Now more than ever, it's not us and them, it's WE. We all need to pray and to work so that no one feels the need to take up arms for any reason, anywhere.

Here's my prayer, in case you feel like praying with me.

God of all people,
be our light.

Bless all those affected by violence,
and its resulting fear, uncertainty and sorrow.

Show us where our lifestyles create injustice,
where we are to blame,
and help us to change.

Transform the hearts
of those who,
in anger and hopelessness,
have come to believe
that violence is the only answer.

Bless those whose mental health
or lifestyle choices endanger them
and those around them,
and bring them the help they need.

Lead us all
to walk together
on the difficult path
to dialogue
understanding,
justice, wholeness,
and peace.

+AMEN.