The stillness of November is a refreshing change after all the exuberance of October and is a welcomed pause before the colourful celebration of December.
The muted shades of November only add to its peacefulness. The soft water-coloured skies with fleeting rays of sunshine make the perfect backdrop for the beauty of each bare tree. The quietude of the first snowfall welcomes us into a space of tranquility and peaceful reflection while the long evenings are perfect for simple pleasures like warm bread pudding shared by a crackling fire.
Historically November was a restful month after a busy autumn of bringing in the harvest, preparing the fruit cellar, stacking the newly cut winter wood and “shoring up” the barn. These days we busy ourselves with leaf raking, placing the patio furniture into winter storage, winterizing the cottage, getting the snow tires on, having the car oiled and ensuring the snow blower is started up and ready to go.
In rural ministry November sees a return of many to Sunday morning worship! The hymn singing is more robust, the choir loft fills and the volume of chatter at Fellowship augments to it loudest.
Aw, yes, November is a month filled with many gifts. As Henry David Thoreau wrote, “The thinnest yellow light of November is more warming and exhilarating than any wine they tell of. The mite which November contributes becomes equal in value to the bounty of July.”
May November be a month that fills your heart with peace and your life with God’s divine light.
Have you been to the grocery store lately? On Monday I took time to stock up our supplies and was left speechless! To save on time I had gone to the store closest to my home where I discovered orange juice at a whopping $8.59 a jug and white bread at nearly $6.00 a loaf.
Needless to say, I quickly returned to my car and drove across town to a more economical store. As empty nesters my husband and I do not spend nearly as much as we used to at the grocery store. Nonetheless, after years of penny pinching while raising our children habits don’t change. If I can get the same juice for $5.00 less only 10 minutes away, I will drive 10 minutes.
However, even at the economical store the prices were startling. Bread, meat and even a can of soup have gone up more quickly than ever in my 55 years of living. How are young families coping? I recall when my 3 children were teenagers we went through a loaf of bread daily not to mention cereal, milk and lunch supplies. But it isn’t just the young families struggling; many seniors are left wondering how they will manage with such high prices.
On October 27th, 2022 the Toronto Starr reported that Food bank usage across Canada hit an all-time high, nearly 1.5 million visits in one month alone.
What can we do?
If you are able please consider donating to your local Foodbank. Any donation is appreciated: a can of soup, a jar of peanut butter, a bag of pasta, whatever you can spare. What is most helpful, however, are cash donations. With money to spend those managing the Foodbanks can buy in bulk what is most needed.
If you are part of a faith community why not have some fun with a Food Drive Challenge? At one church we had a month long peanut butter challenge. The challenge was between smooth or crunchy peanut butter, the one with the most donations won. The Crunchies won! At another church one of the teens decided to build a wall against hunger. Enough canned food was donated to erect a wall that took up half of the front of the sanctuary! There are many fun ways to help others.
Perhaps another way to make change in the lives of others is by offering to volunteer at your local Foodbank.
As Charles Dickens wrote in his book Doctor Marigold, “No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another.”
May we all consider ways to lighten each other’s burdens,
In the three years I served as their Student Minister we only sang the hymn Amazing Grace once and that one time taught me a powerful lesson. By the time we got to the second verse,“’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved;” only my voice could be heard.
I looked up from the pulpit and saw an unforgettable sight. Some had sat down while others grabbed a tissue from the passing tissue box, many were wiping tears from their eyes or blowing their noses. The pianist and I exchanged nervous glances as I continued to sing; part way through the third verse we stopped all together.
Later, during fellowship, I gently inquired about their response to this hymn. One of the older women quietly said, “To this day I can still see that small jeep that would drive through the village.” The others nodded and another woman shared, “I recall the day that jeep came and parked in front of our house; my mother started crying before she even answered the door.”
“Yes, the day we heard about Max it was that jeep. That day they came about the Smith’s son and the McGregor’s son as well. It was a sad day indeed.” This from one of the old timers who usually didn’t say much, then while wiping a tear from his cheek he added, “That hymn, Amazing Grace, takes me back to the war years and the news that jeep would bring.”
After a pause he said, “It was just before supper and I recall standing by the stove to mind the potatoes while my Mother answered the door, I can still hear her scream. We ran down to the garage to get our Father but he was half way up the lane, he had seen the jeep stop at our house, he knew what we had feared.”
Looking straight at me one of the women shared, “Everyone would freeze with fear when that jeep came into the village; afraid it would be their family receiving the bad news.”
She added, “Then we would gather in the cemetery and old Alec would play the hymn “Amazing Grace” on his trumpet as we added names to the war memorial. A village our size never forgets this kind of grief. We almost lost an entire generation of young men by the time the war ended.”
The room fell silent as I pieced together this collective memory of my parishioners, a military jeep that delivered death notices and the grief relived as we sang the hymn “Amazing Grace.”
I turned to one of the granddaughters who was savvy with computers and asked, “If we were to get photos of the young men who died could you create a power point for us?” She was excited by the challenge, so the next two weeks was spent gathering the photos and, on the Sunday, closest to Remembrance Day we all came to see what she had created.
1940’s band music played in background while uniform clad youth smiled back at us, many of them standing in front of familiar houses.
This time I was ready with Kleenex boxes in each pew and tables set up at the front of the sanctuary to hold framed pictures of beloved family members who had served in the armed forces or air forces. One family brought in an entire uniform which was laid out while another family brought in cherished letters from the front lines.
There was no sermon that day; valuable time was spent in hearing the stories of each young man and there were plenty of sacred pauses as we read off the Rolls and listened to the Last Post and Rouse.
I have made a point to honour Remembrance Day every year since, no matter which church I serve. It is important to honour the lives and sacrifices made by those who laid down their lives, so we can live so freely and abundantly. Jesus tells us, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:13)
These are the saints who watch over us and I suspect there will come a day when we each discover that these saints were never very far from us at all.
Blessing to all who take time this coming week to honour those who have served and are serving today,
Rev. Heather McCarrel
(It is over 20 years since I was a Student Minister. Now, the young granddaughter who created the Power Point is a mom and an excellent nurse who works in the same Unit that I work as the Chaplain. Recently we reminisced about that powerful Sunday service so many years ago. Some will recognize this BLOG as I have shared it before.)
Recently I met a man whose life is spent traveling the world. He works for a major airline and as one of the pilots he has seen much of the world. It was interesting to hear of the places he has lived, the people he has met and the variety of cultures he has experienced. I marveled at all he must have seen.
As one who has lived 55 years with my feet firmly planted on the ground I cannot imagine such a life as his. After sharing his latest adventure in South America he turned the conversation to me and asked where I have traveled.
It just so happened the previous Sunday I had been the guest minister an hour north of where I live. I explained the early morning drive up the peninsula along Georgian Bay and the remarkable autumn views. I shared that as I arrived to the church I was amazed by the row of tall Hollyhocks in full bloom waving in the breeze. Never in my life had I seen Hollyhocks blooming in October! They were the cause of such delight I spoke of them in my sermon that morning.
It was here in my telling that I paused ready to apologize for how simple my life must seem. But to my surprise he was full of questions, “Where is this scenic route up the peninsula? How tall were these flowers? When do they usually bloom?”
He didn’t make me feel small at all but instead was fully engaged in the wonder of my Sunday morning adventure.
It doesn’t matter if we travel the world or are contented in our own backyard, what makes all the difference is the attitude we take with us. The attitude of wonder, awe and remaining open to others makes life a magnificent journey!
Blessings on your journey this week may it be full of wonder,
He was sitting in the dirt, covered in his burlap cloak with his hand out stretched hoping someone would drop in a coin, a piece of bread or in the very least acknowledge his presence. Then he heard the name being spoken. The Healing Rabbi was finally walking past and without hesitation he yelled, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”
“Oh, you just quiet down. Jesus doesn’t want to hear from the likes of you!” They hissed at him. Ignoring their taunts, Bartimaeus shouted louder, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”
All the footsteps stopped, silence. One singular voice spoke, “Call him.”
A chorus rang out, “On your feet! He’s calling you.”
Throwing his cloak aside, Bartimaeus jumped to his feet and reached out.
“What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked.
“Rabbi, I want to see.”
“Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you.” Immediately Bartimaeus could see.
It is written that once receiving his sight Bartimaeus “followed Jesus along the road.” But I imagine he didn’t follow quietly and sedately but instead twirled, danced, and sang all the way to Jerusalem.
What joy and gratitude must have filled his soul! The sheer exhilaration and celebration!
Have you ever experienced this kind of joy? Perhaps at a new baby’s birth? When you were told the cancer was gone? Holding the winning ticket? Or, that moment you looked up at a tree ablaze in autumn finery?
These are saucer moments; moments when we drink from our saucer because our cup runneth over.
That is what I imagine Bartimaeus sang as he danced behind Jesus, he sang about drinking from his saucer because his cup runneth over!
May we all have countless saucer moments this coming week and may these moments open our eyes with such vision we see clearly the presence of the divine in our midst.
There sure is a lot to worry about these days. The threat of nuclear war, increasing COVID cases, rising costs to just about everything and too many environmental disasters to count.
How do we find peace of mind at a time like this? Rev. Darlow Sargeant writes, “To be perfectly at peace amid the hurly-burly of daily life is a secret worth knowing. What is the use of worrying? It never made anybody strong; never helped anybody to do God’s will; never made a way of escape for anyone out of perplexity. Worry spoils lives which would otherwise be useful and beautiful.”
It would seem Jesus agrees, “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?” (Matthew 6:25)
As the stoics teach, it is never wise to worry over things we cannot control.
What we can control is how we live our daily lives in our own little worlds. Why not trust in God’s presence and God’s call to serve others? We have the power to help those around us. As Mother Teresa wisely said, “I can’t help thousands. I can help only the one who stands before me.”
Why not spend our days counting our blessing and offering back to God our praise and gratitude? If we are doomed anyway, why not spend our days doing and thinking that which adds beauty and comfort? Perhaps as we do so we will draw closer to the presence of God, and as Rev. Sargeant writes, “Scale the heights of a life abandoned to God, then you will look down on the clouds beneath your feet as you rise above all the worries.”
I was run over by the Holy Spirit this past week, it was a most disturbing experience! One minute I was going about my business and the next I was left a speechless mess fully aware of God’s amazing presence.
It happened while out walking my dog, Abigail, one warm afternoon early in October. I looked up to the Canadian Geese who were practicing their V formation overhead when it happened, a humility so overwhelming I felt light headed with awe.
I will never be able to fully understand or articulate the grandeur of God in that moment. As I looked around God’s glory shone through the salmon noisily splashing up steam. To think God created something as remarkable as a salmon whose instincts know to return home every autumn to propagate the next generation or butterflies who began life as caterpillars are now winged beauties prepared to fly south. This same God put into the hearts of birds to gather on hydro wires so together they may migrate and also instilled within the Canadian Geese to fly in perfect formation. And then, one final touch God decided to have all the bushes and trees burst into celebratory colour!
If all of this wasn’t enough, God also created me, and you, so we can witness this beauty; an audience to God’s amazing creative genius. The profound awareness of God’s closeness stunned me into a deep humility and gratitude that could only be expressed through reverence; a reverence for something much bigger, wiser and deeper than I could ever perceive.
As John Milton, English Poet, wrote, “Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world.”
May your Thanksgiving be so full of gratitude that it results in a deep reverence that tunes you into God’s closeness.
Once autumn arrives it is pumpkin spice everything. I even saw an advertisement last week selling pumpkin spice brake pads! Of course the service station was just having some fun with this pumpkin spice madness.
For me the perfect aroma for autumn is not pumpkin spice but a bouquet of sage, thyme, rosemary, parsley, basil and oregano.
With the threat of the first frost upon us the time had arrived to harvest my herb garden. I cut each plant leaving the roots in place with hopes that next spring they may sprout again. Each herb released an intoxicating scent when cut, a means of departing the garden with one final farewell.
Some of the herbs were delicately tied and hung upside down on a wooden rack in our mudroom, welcoming all who enter with a savory fragrance. Others were prepared for a faster drying process in the oven. With the oven warmed to 170 degrees and the necessary supplies gathered: reclaimed glass jars, parchment covered cookie sheets, and a mortar and pestle, I was ready to start.
Soon the house filled with the best aroma autumn can offer. Not only does this process fill my home with a warm and delectable perfume it also adds a touch of summer to each winter dish.
Sure, pumpkin spice is nice but the signature smells of my own home grown herbs is a reminder of warmer days that help carry me through another cold Grey-Bruce winter.
May we all find simple ways to honour this most rewarding season!
In the spring of 1913 Sir William Osler, a Canadian Physician who was one of the founders of the Johns Hopkins Hospital, addressed the graduating class at Yale University with such a memorable speech it still echoes to this day.
In his speech titled, “A Way of Life” he advised the graduates to adopt the “… practice of living for the day only and for the day’s work.” By using the example of an air tight ocean liner that steadily sails the seas at twenty-five knots he concluded we each would journey life safely if we lightened our load by not carrying regrets of yesterday or worries about tomorrow. He warns that “the load of tomorrow, added to that of yesterday, carried today makes even the strongest falter.”
His suggestion is that we focus only on the “life lived in the now in day-tight compartments.”
This phrase, “day-tight compartment” has become a mantra for me; repeated often as a reminder to not borrow sorrow from the past or to think up troubles in the future. However, it seems to me that even Sir William Osler would agree that we need to plan for the future, everyone has deadlines to meet. Often my work of today is to prepare the next Sunday’s sermon, or the next month’s preaching series. We all must look ahead to be prepared for commitments and deadlines. I wonder if the difference lies in preparing happily for that which we have some control but not wasting our present time in worrying about that which we have no control. We often waste valuable time worrying over situations that only happen in our imagination, “Let us be of good cheer, remembering that the misfortunes hardest to bear are those which never happened.” (James Russel Lowell).
Poet Kalidasa penned this beautifully,
“For yesterday is but a dream,
and tomorrow is only a vision,
but today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness,
What a week we just had. It began with terrifying news that unfolded in Saskatchewan at the James Smith Cree Nation that left 10 people dead and another 18 injured and ended with the announcement of Queen Elizabeth II’s death on Thursday September 8th, 2022.
Each story left us feeling untethered in one way or another. Thankfully despite the sad headlines God’s presence continued to be on the move inviting us to look up and see beauty as it unfolded.
Have you noticed? The tree tops are beginning to look as though they are on fire with flames of red, yellow and orange foliage. Looking up is the only logical stance when sad news surrounds us.
The autumn leaves this week reminded me of how God calls us forth from difficulties into new beginnings. Take for example what happened when the Hebrew people were under the yoke of slavery and trouble surrounded them on all sides. God called an unlikely hero to save them all.
Moses was out tending the flock on Mount Horeb when he saw a peculiar sight. The angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush. He looked, and behold, the bush was burning, yet it was not consumed. God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” (Exodus 3:1-5)
Why did God use a humble bush? Why didn’t God call to Moses from a towering tree? The picture of God speaking from a lowly bush reminds me of a father stooping down to talk to his children. (Reforesting Faith, Seeth)
Also, note that God did not speak to Moses until Moses noticed the burning bush. If we want to hear from God, especially in times of sadness, we need to pay attention to the miracles God places in front of us – even if it means turning off the computer, cell phone or television.
May we all hear the call of the trees to look up and pause long enough to breath in the undeniable healing of God’s renewing presence.
As Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote, “Earth’s crammed with heaven, and every common bush afire with God: but only they who see, takes off their shoes.”
May we all find reason to take off our shoes this coming week!
Stain Glass Lens of the 21st Century 