Posts filed under ‘church’
Notre Dame Fire and Holy Week
Whatever happened to cause the fire may be accidental, and that it happened in Holy Week, is unusual indeed. I saw a posting on Facebook today with a link regarding the cross still being present in the midst of that black hole of burnt-out rubble and think that in itself is a miracle. I think we needed to see that miracle.
That the cross still matters and all that goes with it.
I’ve never been to Paris, have never seen that spire except in photos, and so many more photos this week as people recall a previous visit there (photo credit). That the building still stands after some 850 years is remarkable, and that people were still working on keeping the building strong is also worthy. It is after all, a building. And sometimes those edifices cannot be restored, though it looks as if this one will be.
The edifice represents a significant piece of history. To people of faith, it points upwards as a position of guidance, a place to worship, and a touch point in their lives when life gets messy, as in the wars, our human condition, when we’re not sure where to turn, and I hope also in times of celebration.
I may never see the structure in real life, but I’ll most likely hear of restoration efforts once the embers cool. My hope is that more people will come to know what this season is about, and what the cross means as a symbol of Christianity.
If there’s anything else to celebrate in the midst of this circumstance is that the fire, at some point, was contained and didn’t spread to the structures or the homes and buildings around it. And many will laud the firefighters for their work at containing the blaze as best they could and that artifacts and artwork within the building were saved. It would have been a challenge to consider entering that building to rescue those pieces, nevertheless, they are saved.
In the end, what is important is that human lives were not lost in that fire, though some likely risked their lives by going in. And that the promise of restoration will happen in that historic place, a historic symbol of France’s long history.
Photo credit© Patti Arbon, by permission
Kawartha Settlers’ Village
Search page given to our granddaughters on paying the entry fee
On one of our days away, we went with our host family to Kawartha Settlers’ Village that’s located just outside of Bobcaygeon.
According to the tour booklet for the village,
In 1990, the dream of establishing a museum to preserve history and the development of the area became a reality when a small group of people calling themselves the Kawartha Region Arts and Heritage Society convinced the village of Bobcaygeon to lease them the land to establish the Kawartha Settlers’ Village.
Follow along with me on our tour of some of the buildings. Here’s the map that’s in the program booklet. It’s an easy walk through for visitors of any age.
http://www.settlersvillage.org/tour-the-village
The receptionist at the main building gave each of our granddaughters a card showing pictures of things to look for in the village and a crayon to mark off items as they found them. It became a game for all of us to help them find the items.
Quilters meet regularly in the Wray House to learn their craft. There were many interesting quilts hanging in this home.
A rather colourful and picturesque quilt
A child’s room in another home
Our granddaughters interest was limited in some areas due to their ages of 6 and 8, although the adults could have spent more time. Another time perhaps. The girls did enjoy wandering through the village and checking off the items on their card. They awaited a prize at the end.
The firehall housed an old engine and hoses and hats. The building is a replica of the original Bobcaycaygeon Fire Company station.
The Fairbairn Church
a wooden offering plate
Inside the classroom, one modelling the dunce hat and one drawing on the chalkboard
What’s inside this desk?
Outside the trapper’s cabin
A warm rug inside.
If the printer needed a graphic for a newspaper or flyers, he’d have these images…
or even these images. Not simply drawings but carvings that someone had made.
And a bit of fun at the end of the Kawartha Settlers’ Village.
The girls showed their cards at the admission centre and got their little prize and could keep the cards to remember the visit.
If you’re in the area this summer, go to the village and take the self-guided tour. It was well worth the time and price of admission, which was quite reasonable.
Bringing in the New Year
Once a month I post over at the Canadian Writers Who Are Christian blog. Here’s a taste of what I wrote this month, so early in 2016.
At the Fall District 86 Toastmasters conference in Blue Mountain
Bringing in the New Year—Carolyn R. Wilker
We’re nearly two weeks into 2016, but for a few moments I want to reflect on the old year that we’ve just put aside.
This past year was momentous in so many ways and sad in others. Three people in my circle of acquaintances and friends—some for as long as 30 years—died in 2015, plus one young teen who attended our church. As I mourned the loss, I also felt grateful to have known Kathy, Susan and Patricia, and Samantha. I reflected on the blessings they brought to my life. Susan was part of my early writing life and edited my first book, Once Upon a Sandbox. Kathy had invited us to her place when we were new members at the church and then to the Bible Study she often hosted. Patricia was a kind and generous neighbour who became a friend, and Samantha is gone too soon at the age of 16.
Even while I mourn the loss, there were good times aplenty. My husband and I gained a new granddaughter, an addition to the two small grandchildren we already have. I had new publishing credits (Hot Apple Cider with Cinnamon and Tower Poetry) and requests for a column in our national denominational magazine, Canada Lutheran, and publication therein, but also invitations to do my memoir workshop in new locations to new organizations. There have also been new friendships in the making and a fabulous writer’s critique group in my corner.
Read more here.
Fall Business Expo in Kitchener, Ontario
A fine Christmas concert
Yesterday afternoon my husband and I, and our friend, Judy, attended a choir concert at St. Peter’s Lutheran Church in Kitchener with Inshallah (a group numbering 130)and the St Peter’s choir and all the musicians involved. The church was filled and so was the front of the church with singers and musicians.
The choirs sang pieces from around the world—England, Zimbabwe, Cameroon, New Zealand, Latin America, Brazil, USA, Korea, Germany and Poland—in English and in other languages. A few selections were: He Came Down, Helpless and Hungry (Paired with What Child is This?), Come Now, O Prince of Peace. We as audience members were invited to join in on traditional carols as well as the refrain of several choir selections.
Senior pastor, Mark Ehlebracht delivered a moving message on who Christmas is intended for and how we often want to set aside the troubles in the world to enjoy a Christmas for children, when really Christmas is for all of us.
As well we heard from Judy Nairn, Executive Director of Hospice Waterloo Region. That organization is recipient of all donations from the concert. Nairn spoke of how the organization provides services to those diagnosed with cancer and their family members. She said people often think of Hospice as the “end of the road” when it’s so much more than that.
Directors for the choirs were Debbie Lou Ludolph (Inshallah) and Peter Nikiforuk (St Peter’s Lutheran Church) with Bradley Moggach on piano, Bill Gastmeier, Ian Sommer and Don Neville on guitar. Playing percussion were Julie Hill, Don Neville and Daniel Corrigan. Kristine Lund of Wilfrid Laurier University Seminary, played violin and Joshua Ehlebracht and Peter Nikiforuk on organ for carols sung by the congregation. What a joyful sound and a reminder of God with us in a world that’s not always so welcoming.
We were delighted to hear that portions of this concert will be used for the Christmas Eve broadcast this year and again on Sunday, December 27th at 10 am EST via CTV Southwestern Ontario and will include vignettes and Christmas greetings from around the world.
The last, a favourite—Silent Night— with candles lit and lights turned down, was our closing carol before the postlude.
Perhaps you’ll tune in for one of those broadcasts and enjoy the music as much as we did.
Giving Thanks
This evening I contributed to Canadian Writers Who Are Christian, as I do once a month. Today, because it’s Thanksgiving weekend, I wrote about giving thanks. Not just for a vast array of things, but for those who produce food for us to eat.
After our opening hymn, “We plough the fields and scatter,” this morning, our pastor asked the children what they are thankful for. One said “family” and his little sister said the same thing. And that’s okay, because those things are important too.
When Pastor Claudine mentioned farmers and harvest, it occurred to me that city children do not have the same understanding of harvest that I would have had as a child, or even children growing up on a farm today. City kids don’t see the crops growing, as I did, unless their parents take them to see family in the country. They don’t see wheat in the field being cut, threshed and loaded into a barn for later use. They wouldn’t see all the time and energy or even understand how much the sunshine and rain affect the crops or see the worry in parents’ eyes when too much rain flattens a good stand of grain or hail beats down the corn.
Read more here
Dad riding the old restored tractor in the Tavistock Fair parade
garden earlier in the summer
Church signs: Fed up!?
Some churches post the title of an upcoming sermon on their outdoor signs. The titles can be entertaining or serious, but they often make me think of what that sermon will address. Good food for thought as I drive through the city. I saw one near the expressway in Waterloo recently on my way back from a networking breakfast. It read: Fed Up. I don’t remember if the sign had an exclamation mark or a question mark at the end, but right away I thought of a quirky twist to it, given the new election signs springing up around us.
Yes, we’re going to have an election, and campaigning is underway which means parliament is closed down until the question is decided who will lead our political parties and win the constituencies.
If there’s a question mark at the end (Fed Up?), one might ask ‘fed up with what?’ Might the pastor be asking if we’re ready for new leadership? Did it mean in Ottawa, Waterloo, or in that church’s riding? I kind of suspect it meant up top, in Ottawa.
Do we really need such a long campaign for political leaders to put-downs at each other? No one is right all the time, and it is a free country, at least it was the last time I checked. We have a secret ballot and no one is standing over us pressuring us to vote in a particular way.
What I want is someone in the community who will work hard for us in Ottawa, to handle things like the environment that seriously needs our stewardship—as in some European and North American cities who want to leave a better world for the next generation, and so would I—and food for children who go to school hungry. There are more issues, but those come up top most for me. Longer contemplation will produce a longer list.
I want someone who will be respectful of the people he or she serves in the constituency, including our aboriginal neighbours, and likewise to each other in the House of Parliament. And perhaps that will show up on the campaign trail what kind of person a candidate is. I want someone who can work with other parties, together, on those really important issues our country needs to deal with.
Of course they’re human; of course they want to win for their party. I feel that we need some new leadership there, but maybe not to have everyone as a newbie, for then we’d be ‘reinventing the wheel.’
Wait a moment! Did the sign mean leadership in their church? Many of us are struggling within our respective houses of worship with our shrinking congregations and changing society. There’s plenty of work to do there too.
I really wish I had known what the pastor meant. Maybe, since I was unavailable to attend that service, the pastor will read this and write to let me know. I’d like that.
Despite all this debate on campaigning, remember our rights and freedoms, the secret ballot and how we have some say in our government. Remember how women such as Nellie McClung and others, early in the 20th century, fought hard for women to have the right to vote. Go and vote on October 19th (or in advance polls). Have your say or don’t complain afterwards. You have many days to decide on your candidate. Make it count.
The Evangelical Lutheran Church in Canada offers election resources to help you make your best decision. Go here to read them.
Kairos Reconciliation– our contribution to a national effort
Our Sunday School students and adults of our congregation decorated hearts for a small garden, and the students helped to plant that garden, along with some seeds for flowers we hope will grow and remind us of this act of reconciliation of our own. Thanks to our council co-chair Lynette and fellow Sunday School teacher Darlene and the Sunday School students for planting our garden. One of our flowers will be part of the ceremony in Ottawa and our “planting” event is posted on the national Kairos calendar. See it here.
May 29-June 3rd
From the Kairos site: Reconciliation is in the wind
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It does look like him, but he’s green!
Last Thursday at our workshop for church office administrators, Martin Luther showed up. It wasn’t the man himself, for he’s been dead for centuries—1546, to be precise. A green likeness of the man, who made great changes to the way people think about faith, seemed to appear from out of nowhere (though he was carried in by some attendees), stood upon a chair in chapel and presided over the rest of our short worship and communion. We giggled at this green image, just as Bishop Michael started the service. Martin had travelled a great distance to be with us. Even the bishop seemed a little surprised.
Martin Luther in our meeting room
Then from the group of church admin people, a man named Christian stood up and announced that Martin Luther had come along with them. The man who announced Martin’s presence and his reason for being there is actually the pastor of that congregation.
Christian announced that a particular number of these small statues had been made in various colours and that the red and blue ones had been sold out, and so they had gotten green. Their current practice is to take Martin to as many functions as possible, thus he appeared that day for worship and the early part of our workshop day, before being whisked off to be interviewed for live television with another staff member of the synod. And before he left us for other illustrious company, I had a photo shoot with the green Martin. Probably the one and only ever photo shoot with Martin Luther.
For Easter Sunday: He Lives
This morning we attended the Easter service at our church, and celebrated the resurrection of Jesus Christ.
When Christ died, he did it because God, our Father loves us so much. Jesus took our sin upon himself, but he rose again that we might have eternal life with God. Today we celebrate that resurrection that give us hope. That’s grace—love for us before we could love him.
Anticipation
A bird sits on the topmost branch of a cedar in our backyard. He looks one way and then another. I open my office window a crack to check if he’s singing. He’s not, at least at this moment. And then he takes flight and I cannot see him anymore. The sun is shining in a light blue sky that holds fluffy white clouds. The air is still cool, but the snow banks have been shrinking and what’s on the sidewalks is turning into a small lake.
I thought to wear my rain boots instead of heavy winter boots yesterday when I prepared for my walk, and it was a good thing, for as the sun warmed the atmosphere, the puddles on the sidewalk and near street corners had grown large enough to slosh through and get one’s feet very wet.
Two young boys, just home from school, stood on top of snow piles next to the sidewalk and gathered whatever snow they could grab and tossed it in the water on the street. Perhaps they were checking how fast the snow would melt, or was it a science experiment, trying to displace water from the already growing small lake on the road?
Teens skateboarded down the middle of the street, talking as they went, and separated enough to let a car pass as it came close.
The streets are widening too, with the receding snow. I haven’t seen a robin yet, but I’ve heard the cardinal call. Is it spring yet?
After a long winter, with much snow and dark nights, I’m ready for spring to show its face, ready to see the earth come alive and the buds form on the trees, but I am not rushing time, for each moment we have is one we will not have again.
In the past few weeks, we’ve heard news of the death of three people, two elderly relatives and my friend Kathy, which has been difficult. Good-byes are hard, even knowing they go on to heaven. Those days of mourning are not to be rushed.
At the same time, we also await the arrival of a new member of our family, at the beginning of life beyond the womb. And I do not want to rush those last days of the mother-to-be preparing her heart and mind for the birth of her baby, or the baby’s father to recover from what may have been a viral bug. He needs to be well to attend the birth of their first child. The obstetrician has said, “It’s time.” And so soon, we shall meet our new grandchild who has indicated life through many kicks and movements within its little warm fluid-filled sack.
In the church year, we’re in the season of Lent, a slower more reflective time, with dark shadows, death, and a lot of waiting. It’s interesting how Lent parallels our anticipation of spring after a long winter, in the northern hemisphere, and how that promise of joy comes at Easter when we often see the first hint of flowers coming from the cool earth.
New life, and that brings me back to the anticipated baby.
I think this baby may yet beat the arrival of our spring flowers, and then we shall be stepping lively to meet this little one and congratulate the new parents. There may be tears, of both joy and sadness, when this baby arrives. Perhaps we’ll even sing as loud as all the birds together. The baby’s young cousins will meet the baby they have been waiting for, and welcome the baby with kisses and gentle hugs.
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