As part of our national recognition of Remembrance Day each year in Canada on November 11th, we sing “O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.” Over the years, women and men have stood “on guard,” defending borders and peacekeeping far away from Canada. They’ve been deployed on Operation Presence, Operation Crocodile, Operation Jade, and Operation Soprano, in Mali, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, South Sudan, and the Middle East defending borders in a variety of ways around the world in battles, skirmishes, wars.
Some returned home emotionally overwhelmed by what they have experienced. Some returned home physically disabled, addicted, in physical pain. Some returned home unable to find employment or housing. Some did not return home.
Each year on November 11th, we stand still. We stand still to remember their sacrifice and that of their families. We stand still for a very short moment in time, on one day of the year, while the families of the fallen stand and live with the pain of it all 365 days a year.
I was reminded of all of that as our car passed a house and I noticed, clearly visible from the street, the photo of a young man in uniform in a frame in the living room window.
It was just a photo, that’s all. Just a photo. Or was it?
What was it about that photo that grabbed at my heart? What was it about that photo that created a deep chasm in my soul? What was it about that photo that brought tears to my eyes and gripped my chest so I couldn’t breathe? “It” couldn’t be named. I only knew that my soul had been touched.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the salute. The car’s driver saluted the photo quietly, quickly, calling no attention to himself. For an ever-so-brief moment, the car’s driver was in another world … a world that connected him to this young man … a world that united them as siblings of conflict … a world that reminded him of the fragility of life and the happenstance of circumstance.
In the photo, a young man of eighteen or so. In the car, a man old enough to be the young man’s grandfather. And yet, for that one brief moment, they were brothers.
Salutes happen – some place – every day – on every land – in every continent. This salute … was different.
May we salute those who have served, sacrificed, suffered. May we salute those who served and still suffer in physical pain; in emotional pain; who deal with homelessness, unemployment, addiction, relationship break-up, depression, PTSD.
May our salute to them be translated into compassionate laws and practical ways to help all who have served and are still serving in conflict situations and in peacekeeping situations.
Thank you, all who have served. Thank you, all who are now serving. Thank you, all who are about to serve.
Photos of “Wire Soldiers” ghosts of soldiers silently standing over their graves in the St John’s Churchyard, Slimbridge, U.K. More can be read about this project: https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-england-gloucestershire-46155057
Photo taken at the Cenotaph in Duncan, British Columbia, Canada
Photo (used with permission) of Canadian Scottish Regiment Association Band, Canadian Armed Forces (Army) Piper, Bill Buckingham, who piped for the Remembrance Day ceremony for St. Michaels University School, Victoria, British Columbia for over 35 consecutive years! Thank you, Bill, and all other pipers for your service.
On this night, mid-term election in the United States, tensions are high, anxiety is higher and fear is even higher than that for many in the US and other countries around the world.
Mail-in ballots are ready to be counted. People are voting, taking others to vote, encouraging those who said they weren’t voting, to vote. Lawyers and judges are preparing to argue challenges against counting mail-in ballots
And, as it all unfolds, I pray. As do many – many within the United States and many beyond. Last night, I noticed a shadow on my bedroom wall which appeared, created by a little statue on my bureau. Words and a familiar melody echoed in my head and I found myself praying … not specifically words, but words-in a song.
While those words I heard in my head are part of a Christian hymn, I think they can have meaning for non-Christians, when adapted. If you know the melody, I hope you’ll hum/think/sing it now and let the words surface as a prayer/wish/hope. And if you don’t know the melody, you can join in, too, saying/thinking these words (original words in paratheses) because …“We are pilgrims on a journey. We are family on the road. We are here to help each other. Walk the miles and bear the load.
I will hold the night-light (Christ-light) for you – in the nighttime of your fear. I will hold my hand out to you – speak the peace you long to hear.
I will weep when you are weeping. When you laugh I’ll laugh with you. I will share your joys and sorrows ’till we’ve seen this journey through.
When we sing to Nature’s glory (to God in Heaven), we shall find such harmony. Born of all we’ve known together, of the world’s (Christ’s) love and agony.
Neighbour, family, let me serve you. Let me be a friend (as Christ) to you. Pray that I might have the grace to let you be my servant, too. <Richard Gillard, adapted by June Maffin>
This night, may we hold the night-light for all in the United States – and for ourselves, because whether we acknowledge it or not, what happens in this election will affect the rest of the world.
As the votes are counted and the anticipated legal process unravels in the coming days and nights, may we continue to pray – to sing – to remind ourselves that regardless of the outcome of the election, we are all going to have to live together on this Planet Earth.
We all want to have the answer to the question “What is going to happen?” But perhaps the question is not “What?” but “How.” And the answer to that must be “Together.”
Whatever happens, we must get through it together, because “We are pilgrims on a journey. We are family on the road. We are here to help each other. Walk the miles and bear the load.
This night, let us hold the night-light for one another.
For many around the world, two nights ago it was All Hallow’s Eve (Hallowe’en). Yesterday was All Saints Day. And today is both All Souls Day and Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead). Together, the three days form what is known as “AllHallowTide.”
If you’ve seen the movie “Coco,” you’ll understand why I think of all of the days of AllHallowTide (October 31 – November 2nd) as “thin places.“
Thin Places? Celtic spirituality refers to “thin places” as places where the veil between this world and the eternal/Other world is thin … where one can walk in two worlds as the Other world is more near.
Hallowe’en, All Saints Day, All Souls Day, and Día de los Muertos are “thin places” – where those gone before us can be remembered via cultural rituals and religious services.
Saints? Who are “saints”? Are saints people like St. Francis of Assisi, St. Hilda of Whitby, St. Hildegaard of Bingen, etc.? Yes, but they’re not the ‘only’ saints. I think of a saint as ‘someone the light shines through.’ The ‘ordinary’ saints … such as those who died,those who are dying, this very moment because of war, hunger, poverty, violence, racism, politics – those whose “light has shone” at some time.
I think of … my parents, Joy and Eddie Mack … my husband Hans van der Werff … my brothers Eric Mack and Gerry Mack and sisters Lois Lucas and Fran Talbot. All gone from this earth, but not gone from memory or gratitude for their presence in my life. The Light of Love shone through each of them and my life was blessed.
I remember my teachers and mentors (especially Mrs. Lancey, Mr. Snyder, Miss Smith, the Reverend Jack Major) for the light of their mentorship, knowledge and love which “shone” through each of them, and others I have been privileged to know and learn from over the years. Saints.
At this time in history, I think of those who are standing up, speaking out for the voiceless, resisting fascism, encouraging the discouraged – ‘saints’ … living in the ‘thin places’ of today.
Mahatma Ghandi (In his Spiritual Message to the World in 1931) seemed to speak of ‘thin places‘ when he said: “There is an indefinable, mysterious power that pervades everything. I feel it, though I do not see it.It is this unseen power that makes itself felt and yet defies all proof, because it is so unlike all that I perceive through my senses.It transcends the senses.“
The words of Linda Hogan (in her book “Dwellings”) brings the Celtic understanding of ‘thin places’ to a gentle place of understanding for me: “Suddenly, all my ancestors are behind me. ‘Be still. Watch and listen. You are the result of the love of thousands” they say.” First Nations peoples in Canada and Indigenous peoples around the world speak gently of their “ancestors” with great reverence and understanding. Some religious people pay homage to their ancestors with phrases such as “May their memory be a blessing” and “May s/he rest in peace.”
AllHallowTide for me is, indeed, a ‘thin place’ – a hallowed time – of connection with saints.
May we honour their memories, their wisdom, love, sacrifice, dedication with gratitude and remembrance. And may their memory be a blessing and may they rest in peace for all eternity.
November, welcome! In this part of the world , you bring wind. You bring rain. And politically this year, again, you bring ongoing devastations of war, growing tension, escalating fear, economic anxiety and global uncertainty. But I don’t want to focus on those.
Where I live, November has been known to be an opportunity to making time to experience a sense of calm … intentional calmness.
Intentional, by slowing down … becoming more involved in our art/craft/hobby … curling up by the fire … getting lost in a great book … making comfort foods … being creative … catching up with friends by phone and mail … be-ing hopeful.
Yes, being hopeful.
There is always hope. Perhaps not tangible. Perhaps not visible these days. But, hope exists.
The question is … how can hope exist if we are feeling fearful, isolated, uncertain? It’s here, because hope is here in us.
We are the hope. We are the hope that after November … there will be a December … and a January … and a February, etc.
That hope is not just for ourselves, but it is for those living in refugee camps, those in war-torn areas, those being arrested by ICE, those uncertain about being able to afford to buy food to feed themselves/their families, those making decisions about what to do when it comes to paying for medicine/doctor’s visits/hospitalizations.
We cannot lose hope because, if we do, what of the ones who can see no hope beyond the possibility of a glass of water, a crust of bread, a loved one released from a building that collapsed, what are they going to do?
We can be their hope. May we take each month as it comes. May we take each week as it comes. bMay we take day as it comes. May we take each moment as it comesand look to this month of November as a month where courage will be found and where hope will prevail. Welcome, November.
A big of history … in some parts of the world, this night begins the ancient Christian three-day observance of AllHallowTide, predated from Celtic harvest festivals such as Samhain, designed as a time to remember those who have died. All Hallows’ Eve is the evening before All Hallows’ Day (also known as All Saints’ Day in the Christian calendar or ‘Hallowmas’). From the Old English ‘hallowed,’ meaning ‘holy’ or ‘sanctified’, it is now usually contracted to the more familiar word Hallowe’en.
Today is also Samhain – a Gaelic festival marking the end of the harvest season and beginning of winter or “darker half” of the year with celebrations beginning on the evening of 31 October, as the Celtic day began and ended at sunset.
For many, Hallowe’en is a secular celebration with people … carving pumpkins … apple bobbing … visiting haunted attractions … trick-or-treating. “Trick or Treat!” they shout as front doors are opened and children hold open their bags. “I’ve got the treats,” I reply “What trick (a song or dance or joke or riddle) can you offer in exchange?” First comes silence. Then giggles and happy faces on accompanying parents. And then, each year, the jokes come. The dancing feet tap. The songs erupt. And the riddles come forth. “Why is a seagull called a seagull?” “Because it flies over the sea, and if it flew over a bay it would be called a bagel!” A little girl, about three, recites her numbers in Spanish. A little boy says, “I remember you and this house. I’ve got my joke ready for you!” And he did!
For others, this day is part of their Christian religious observance … attending church services on All Saints Day on November 1st … lighting candles in remembrance of loved ones … visiting graves and paying their respects to the deceased.
As the last of the little ones leave with treats in their bags and smiles on their faces each year, the door is closed, the outdoor lights are turned off and I spend time reflecting on the innocence, the wonder, the fun of the night in the faces of the children and their accompanying parents.
The candleinside the pumpkin is extinguished, and a wee prayer of gratitude that a Spirituality of Play is still celebrated as “shadows of a thousand years rise again, unseen and voices whisper in the trees – tonight it’s All Hallow’s Eve!”
In the western hemisphere, we are in the Season of Fall/Autumn … a beautiful time of the year where I live. After taking this photo, I couldn’t help myself.
I took a break.
I ran down the path, playing with the fallen leaves. Returning to life-as-a-child, when life was simple, uncomplicated, safe, and secure, even if only for a few moments.
May we all take a break.
May we let our mind drift … far, far away from the political yuck, nasty social media, personal stresses and crises … anger and fear and bewilderment. For a few moments, may we let our imagination take us to a place where we scamper down a lane covered with leaves, joyfully toss the leaves up in the air, inhale the smells of this now-upon-us Season, listen to the sounds under our feet and over our head as we play, as birds fly south, as we laugh and breathe … breathe in – the Breath of Life – Ruach – fresh air – holy living.
Signs abound in Nature, and within us, as we move into and through the Autumn Season of our lives.
There are times when we feel alive and vibrant in body, mind and spirit.
There are times when we realize that the withering of skin, the creaking of bones, the aching of muscles, the forgetfulness that can come with the aging process are simply part of the Autumn Season of life.
Is it wisdom to ignore these signs? Is it wisdom to focus solely on these signs?
How can we maintain balance and acknowledge the the cycle of life?
Perhaps trees and leaves can be our teacher.
When leaves change colour … the tree is still there.
When our face, legs, arms, neck, hands begin to wither … we are still there.
When leaves fall … not all fall at the same time.
When we rise from a chair or sofa … stiffness doesn’t always remain with us.
Fall/Autumn is here. Winter is coming. And in the meantime, if leaves and trees could talk, perhaps they would remind us to spread our branches, to acknowledge our natural beauty in each season, and to welcome life.
It’s Thanksgiving weekend in Canada. Happy Thanksgiving!
For many, the “How do we give thanks” question arises. Especially the *how* do we give thanks … when there is unemployment or illness in our family? … when there are senseless deaths caused by terrorists, drunk drivers, those wielding machine guns, war? … when abusive substances continue to attract and ruin lives? … when we feel depressed, spiritually dry, lonely, are grieving? … when hurricanes, tornadoes, typhoons, earthquakes, famine, mass shootings, violence, “isms” are prevalent? … when abductions happen and people of all ages are forced to become sex slaves? … when we don’t know if … war will be stopped tomorrow … if peace will come to Ukraine, Palestine, Israel and more … if war will come to our own country via drones or something else … if nuclear energy will be unleashed? … when hackers, scammers, spammers disrupt our lives with growing frequency? … when we don’t know when/if another nasty virus will attack with even more fury? … when we are uncertain about the future of democracy … when we don’t know if there will be a tomorrow?
History shows that there are always people who give thanks in good times and in bad times … like Henry. Who is Henry?
Henry was a farmer from a very remote area where people could only gather for worship at great intervals.On those occasions they would witness to the blessings in their lives since the community had last assembled.
At one such meeting, Henry stood and addressed the people in halting and simple speech:“It’s been a powerful difficult year out there. The fever took our eldest daughter. Then my wife took ill and is still in bed. The spring wheat crop was mostly ruined by floods.And, oh yes, praise God from whom all blessings flow.”
Then Henry sat down.In the midst of personal disaster, Henry paused and gave thanks.
Being thankful each day, takes discipline, especially when there are financial stresses, medical concerns, family problems, scary political tactics, environmental devastations, unrestrained viruses, war and more. How can we be thankful where there is too much that distracts us from living a life of gratitude?
Maybe it is because we are looking for the “BIG” blessings to be grateful for, when there are many “LITTLE” blessings each day? Think of all the gifts that come absolutely free to most of us. * If you had to pay for the oxygen you breathe at the rate oxygen cost in a hospital, how long could you continue breathing? * If you had to pay for the sun’s heat at the rate of today’s heating bills, how long could you stay warm in winter in the western hemisphere? * If you had to pay for each of your eyes, at the rate eye damages are awarded in court (about $50,000 for the loss of sight in one eye), how many eyes could you afford? * And the list goes on.
While I believe that the Henry’s of this world live ‘thankful Living’ lives, I also believe that there are more Henry’s than we know! At Graduation ceremonies several years ago, almost a hundred students filed into their High School auditorium. Speeches were offered, but because of legal issues and court decisions at the time in their area, no prayers or blessings were allowed to be offered in the school.
When the last student came to the microphone, he looked at the students, smiled, and sneezed. And then clearly, slowly and confidently, a friend shouted “GOD BLESS YOU!” The audience exploded into applause. The point had been made.
May each of us “sneeze our way” through our Thanksgiving (whenever they happen), and realize, that in spite of the angst and fear and unknown in the world, in own personal stuff) there is always something for which we can be thankful and experience at least one little blessing.
Aaaaaccchhhooo!
Happy Thanksgiving! *************************
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A kaleidoscopic tumbling of emotions pierces conversations, thoughts and social media as words are spoken, written, texted and issues of racism, colonialism, fear and hatred surface far too often.
While we know that words can wound … we sometimes forget that words can also heal. While we know that words can cause confusion … we sometimes forget that words can also bring hope. While we know that words can bring division … we also forget that words can also bring reconciliation.
Reconciliation … a much-talked-about word in many places and is a word that has begun to be put into action. This day is a national holiday in Canada. Every year on September 30th, the “National Day for Truth and Reconciliation” is marked to encourage Canadians to engage with their colonial history, to raise awareness of indigenous cultures, and to honour the survivors of the Canadian Residential School system. That system forcibly removed more than 150,000 First Nations, Inuit and Métis children from their families, subjected them to assimilationist policies, as well as other broader injustices faced by indigenous peoples under colonial rule. This day, Orange Shirt Day, many wear orange-coloured shirts as a reminder of the missing children.
When apartheid ended in South Africa, the government sought to transform December 16th into an annual symbol of unity rather than division, creating the National Day of Reconciliation to reflect on the country’s progress in overcoming its painful past, to promote social cohesion across racial and cultural divides, and to raise consciousness about historical injustice.
As issues of racism and colonialism are rising throughout the world, giving fear and hatred through words., the word ‘reconciliation’ must become a reality – within our families, communities, countries, globally – for we all share this planet Earth.
In the exchange of words, may there be sensitivity to those whose opinion differs from our own. May we be empowered with compassion for those who are hurt by the opinions of others.
May we be enabled to move beyond woundedness, confusion, and fear, and not retaliate with words that wound, confuse, and instil even more fear.
And may we be energized with hope … hope that gives life … hope that encourages … hope that empowers reconciliation in word and action.
May we “find the courage to look at our past with eyes wide open, unafraid to see our country at its worst and then humbly, take steps to heal the damage done.” (Globe and Mail)
The wise words of my parents “You were given a brain, use it” often surfaced throughout my life.
At the age of fifteen, I decided to leave the church of my youth which seemed to expect me to leave my brain at the door. When I would ask a question I was told “Do not question” and read the books of our faith.”
I did. And then I had more questions and continued to be told “Don’t question.”
“Don’t question”??? Isn’t that why I was given a brain? … to ask questions … to doubt … to consider possibilities … to challenge situations of injustice … to think for myself … to come to my own opinion?
When I became a parent. I intentionally taught my son to think … research subjects … be open to learning from others … discuss what he was learning … listen to the opinions of others … come to his own independent opinion.
In other words, he was raised to be a thinker – not simply go with the crowd … not to agree with my views – but to come to his own opinions about … politics … truth … relationships … religion … abortion … euthanasia … capital punishment … sexuality … and more.
I like to think that reading and doing research, becoming informed, respectfully listening to the opinions of others, discussing and debating and eventually coming to our own opinions is a responsibility.
If you/I were given a brain, surely the Giver of the Gift expects us to use the gift at all times and particularly in these difficult days of elusive truth. So, we must seek truth … we must pursue truth, even if it alienates us from loved ones, from political party adherence, from religious tenets. We must think. Think For Ourself. It is our responsibility
“Mother’s Day” (a secular celebration) in North America is not the same as “Mothering Sunday” which is a Christian celebration, celebrated on the 4th Sunday in Lent in the UK and Ireland since the 16th century. Mother’s Day is being marked today … or avoided …
Whichever it is, With Mother’s Day may we be mindful that there are women who will be celebrating and giving thanks, while at the same time, there will be women who will be grieving, hurting, in pain. All on the same day.
With Mother’s Day I think of and pray forexperiencing a wide range of emotions … the women who never birthed a child … the women who miscarried … the women who were infertile (or their partner was) … the women who had an abortion … the women whose child was stillborn … the women whose child had serious health issues … the women whose child ran away and put into custodial care … the women whose child was raped … the women whose child was taken away at birth by authorities … the women whose child was kidnapped, arrested, deported … the women whose child died due to the pandemic, accident, overdose, illness, murder … the women who began life as male, but knew they were not … the women whose child lives in fear … the women whose child became alienated from them and there is little or no communication … the women whose adoptions fell through … the women whose artificial insemination didn’t work … the women whose surrogate changed her mind & kept the baby … the women whose child is in prison … the women whose child had a debilitating physical/mental disability … the women whose child committed suicide … the teachers who ‘mothered’ the children in their classrooms … the women who were surrogate mothers, carried the child to term, but who never became that child’s parent. … the mothers have died … the women in countries at war, trying to be strong for their children while separated from their partners, families, country and living with explosions, food shortages and the threat of rape, annihilation.
With Mother’s Day, I think of, and pray for those who are rejoicing because … they gave birth to a healthy child … their child had children and they became a grandmother … they adopted a child … each of us – for we all had a biological mother and were given life.
With Mother’s Day, I think of and pray for those who are mothers, but who may not see their role to be one of mothering: foster moms, spiritual moms, mentor moms.
With Mother’s Day, I think of and pray for those who lost their mother through death or alienation or deportation and all who suffered abuse from their mother.
This year, with the reality that Roe v Wade was overturned in the United States, I think and pray for the countless woman who will be forced to carry a child to term … regardless of rape, incest, age, or their own death.
May acknowledgment of Mother’s Day, be done with sensitivity, compassion and kindness in faith groups/religions, families, social media and law courts.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Remembering Joy (Gene Dolores) … mother to June and Gerry; step-mother to Lois, Fran and Eric; grandmother to Tod, Christopher and Tracy; step-grandmother to Grace, Brenda, Glen, Jeff and Danae … and giving thanks. May you continue to rest in peace, Mom. Thank you – for oh, so much.
