Easter, Christ Church Cathedral

My mother and family attended Dufferin Street Baptist. Toronto. I have her New Testament and Psalms on my desk.  I was raised Christian, first Baptist, then United Church , then Anglican.  I attended evangelical with Willie and Phillip and attended Catholic services with Laura and John. . 

It was Christ Church Cathedral that I was baptized with my friend Tom sponsoring me and Rev. Peter Elliott leading.  It was a sprinkling like the christening as an infant. Later  I’d be baptized full immersion in the River Jordan, Israel.  With Peter and Tom I felt I was lifted on the wings of an  Eagle. I had felt a tremendous weight of guilt and shame lifted from me as I’d confessed to Father John a year or so earlier.  In Israel I felt grounded,  God is an experience.  There’s always at moments like these an inner sense of the self shifting into something a kin to overdrive. 

I attended Christ Church Cathedral after my third divorce when I abstained from marijuana and alcohol having experienced ‘incomprehensible demoralization’ betrayed by my self, my profession and my wife,   having felt I’d lost the path of God I’d taken since praying by my bedside with my mother.  

Here I was again in this magnificent cathedral of high ceilinged architecture, polished wood, blessed  stained glass.  I loved being here praying in the dark night of my soul.  That year I left marriage and medicine and reaffirmed my faith, feeling safe and at peace here. 

I began pastoral counselling and returned to theological study. It had been so many years before at University of Winnipeg I’d studied Literature of the Bible with Dr. Carl Ridd. Here I’d be challenged by the profound thinking of Dr. Peter Elliot. I’d come here with my friend George and after ,over lunch, we’d  discuss the sermon and theology.  I’d go on to study more theology at Vancouver Theological Institude.Regent College and St. Mark’s Catholic College. I lived in the West end and came here for Compline so often. I’d come for the noon time prayers as well. I’d share my struggles and fears with Peter and he’d be welcoming and caring. 

I’d become a reader here.  It was a different view from the front yet the same.  Humility is like that.  Looking out on the congregation I looked up at the truly magnificent organ where the great works of Rupert Lang began and the choir that annually won Canadian awards for church music sat. Here I felt connected to the church all the way back to Peter the rock.  The history of Rome and Constantinople and the Church of England and all joined on this hallowed Musqueem ground. I kneeled to pray with saints, sinners, and the redeemed. It was a place of discovery and recovery, a place of welcome.  I healed here and felt comforted for a decade or more.

John Stephens is the bishop today. I loved his sermon of Easter talking of Mary Magdalene and the resurrection, faith and patience.  It was a moving sermon, an uplifting sermon, a sermon of hope.  I’d not been here at Christ Church since before this last three years of Covid and lockdowns.  I’d been attending dog friendly St. James with Gilbert my first cockapoo,  then Rev Emily’s  dog friendly St. Barnabus with  Madigan, my second cockapoo.   

This Easter  I just wanted to hear the brass again. Christ Church has each Easter added horns and trumpets to the organ and choir.  It’s like attending the Vancouver Symphony, with the Vancouver opera and a lecture worthy of UBC along with children and family all affirming their faith in Jesus.  It was all I hoped it would be. 

 There have been so many deaths these last few years. I’m at an age where the grieving doesn’t seem to end.  It was like those years in college when friends were having  weddings after weddings..  

When I travel I visit cathedrals.  The spring of last year I was in Aberdeen, Edinburgh, Oxford, London and Paris. The sermon and service at Christ Church in Oxford was so spiritual as was the sermon and service here. I felt the presence. I entered the flow. I joined in communion with my fellow man and God.  It was a holy time as was this.

When it was over Laura and I left the church to go out into the world, It was raining still and we opened our umbrellas as we were joined  by Laura’s friends, Julia and Patricia. Laura too me Patricia had once played organ in her Trinidad church.  Asked about my colourful Rembrandt umbrella I shared how I loved shopping in the stores of art galleries. It  was a happy time.  Touched by joy we celebrated the risen Christ and glory.  Back in the world of the mundane we carried on.  

Madigan was so excited by our return. He is little and anxious for a guard dog and  enormously glad to be relieved of his lonely heavy duty.  His joy is ever a reward.  Laura would make the Hamm , mashed potatoes and asparagus for our Easter meal. It would be a memorable day.  I would be so grateful for this life and thankful for all the love and joy I had known.  Church is a time of reflection and a reminder of the otherworldly essential so easily overlooked in a consumer society.  Church  is my place of refuge and inspiration, the city equivalent of a walk in a garden with God as companion. .  Thank you Jesus for your presence. Thank you Christ Church Cathedral.