March 18, 2022 (Lent Week 2)

 

Parish Vigil

I am weary of my crying: my throat is dried: mine eyes fail while I wait for my God.

Psalm 69:3

Parish takes its meaning from Greek words related to neighbour. In Toronto I attended an Anglican parish that, like St. Augustine’s, embodies all sorts of people. St. Mary Magdalene’s progressive, social justice activities attract students, academics and young professionals, many of whom appreciate the church’s BAS folk masses. Meanwhile, the church’s embrace of traditional customs and masses, centred on the BCP, draws Anglo-catholics, as well as Italian, Portugese and Ukranian Catholics. It’s not always a peaceable kingdom! But, thanks be to God, it works.

Music has been a unifying force at SMM, partly due to Healey Willan’s legacy. Holy Week, with its blend of music and silences, also unifies. People come from all over to attend  multiple masses, the Stations of the Cross and Tenebrae services. At the close of the Maundy Thursday mass, the side altar in St. Joseph’s chapel is transformed into the altar of repose: decked with candles and draped in white linens, it supports the reserved sacrament held in a covered chalice. Parishioners hold vigil from Thursday night, through the Good Friday service. This ancient practice echoes the night Jesus asked His friends to keep watch over Him in the Garden of Gethsemane.

Dimly lit and in its stripped state, the main sanctuary would appear barren and dingy. By contrast, the candlelight and lingering aroma of old wood and burnt incense made St. Joseph’s chapel feel almost cosy. Living close by, I would attend the altar any time between 1:00 and 4:00 AM. There was solace in being alone and, at times, a silent kinship with other watchkeepers. A sense of peace pervaded, yet I also remember feeling spiritually strained, eventhough all that was required was to be vigilant. This brought me closer to Jesus’ disciples. I could not know their fatigue, or how difficult it was for them to have been persecuted, their leader in peril; I only knew that sometimes it’s hard to stay awake.

Like St. Augustine’s, St. Mary Magdalene’s shares a neighbourhood with other churches and the sacred spaces of other faiths. From the room I rented near SMM, I could see the spires of St. Mary’s Ukranian Catholic Church. Even on days when the sky loured, the church’s turquoise domes with gold crosses caught light.

Here on the prairie, how familiar are the yellow and blue of the Ukranian flag, the colours of wheat and sky. Our neighbourhood extends. We are weary. Yet we are called to stay vigilant. What does this mean to us? How will we keep watch over our brothers and sisters? 

 

But as for me, my prayer is unto thee, O Lord, in an acceptable time:

O God, in the multitude of thy mercy hear me, in the truth of thy salvation.

Deliver me out of the mire, and let me not sink:

let me be delivered from them that hate me, and out of the deep waters.

Let not the waterflood overflow me, neither let the deep swallow me up,

and let not the pit shut her mouth upon me.

Hear me, O Lord; for thy loving kindness is good:

turn unto me according to the multitude of thy tender mercies.

Psalm 69 13-16

 

- Alison Goodwin 


 

 

Do Not Forsake Me

Kyiv Chamber Choir


 

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