Sunday, May 3, 2009

Westminster Abbey

Laura is Catholic. I like spiritual places. Places where the people's faith and activities have imbued a particular geographical place with the sacred. The Abbey is just such a place. When a friend was hurting so bad that life seemed like dying a monk from the Abbey gave him hope to carry on. Abbotsford and Mission are names that relate to the special calling of this region. I feel good here. In the chapel Laura and I pray. She's touched by the rituals learned young in childhood. The holy water gives her peace. We kneel together and pray our separate prayers knowing a loving God by faith. The light through the stained glass is crimson with the sun. Like blood. Outside the men play roller blade hockey on the court down the hill. Black robed men walk outside the buildings which house the administrative offices. We get back on our motorcycle and come down the mountain in first gear to rejoin the world, just a little lighter for our time of communion.

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