This past Summer I spent a long weekend in Quebec City. I was there essentially to join with family to celebrate the life of my brother, David Salisbury Keppel-Jones. He died of Parkinson’s Disease on May 12, 2021 during the Pandemic. I found that was a time of peaceful closure.
On the following Sunday, some of us went to Holy Trinity Anglican Cathedral for their morning service. I entered this beautiful Cathedral church building filled with numerous stained-glass windows. Images of Jesus, Joseph and Mary, the four Apostles, twelve Disciples and many saints were all illuminated. Most were given in memory, and to honour, long-deceased members—the Saints of this Church Family. Many tourists were traipsing up and down the aisles, their necks craned to enable them to observe these awe-inspiring, colourful windows. They did not care that a worship service was in progress in this sacred space. That disturbed me.
I suddenly wondered what would happen if each window showed a beloved person who had died, and whose life had mattered to them? I thought of a number of now-deceased people who, in my life, had mentored me, or made a real difference—my Saints. Who would be there, I pondered? There are always the obvious family members whose lives influenced us, but others came to mind: Those who were there for me in times of difficulty or mental instability; for support when I had reached rock bottom. They all cared.
I thought with gratitude of these people and then later made a list. Thirty people came to mind. All gave of themselves to others, but especially to me. None would consider themselves ‘saints,’ and none would feel comfortable having a stained-glass window erected to respect them. But I can picture each person being illuminated from a place of honour. I can also give thanks for their love, understanding and compassion to me.
This Advent, I suggest you make your own list of those people who have gone before you, and who deserve a place of honour and your thanksgiving for a life well lived—your ‘saints.’ Perhaps you could make your own Advent Calendar and fill each day with the memory of a person who really counted in your life. A time to give thanks, and to remember their gift of love.
Psalm 105:3(b) – 4, reads: “… let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice. Look to the Lord and his strength; Seek his face always.”
Thanks be to God!
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For all the saints
This past Summer I spent a long weekend in Quebec City. I was there essentially to join with family to celebrate the life of my brother, David Salisbury Keppel-Jones. He died of Parkinson’s Disease on May 12, 2021 during the Pandemic. I found that was a time of peaceful closure.
On the following Sunday, some of us went to Holy Trinity Anglican Cathedral for their morning service. I entered this beautiful Cathedral church building filled with numerous stained-glass windows. Images of Jesus, Joseph and Mary, the four Apostles, twelve Disciples and many saints were all illuminated. Most were given in memory, and to honour, long-deceased members—the Saints of this Church Family. Many tourists were traipsing up and down the aisles, their necks craned to enable them to observe these awe-inspiring, colourful windows. They did not care that a worship service was in progress in this sacred space. That disturbed me.
I suddenly wondered what would happen if each window showed a beloved person who had died, and whose life had mattered to them? I thought of a number of now-deceased people who, in my life, had mentored me, or made a real difference—my Saints. Who would be there, I pondered? There are always the obvious family members whose lives influenced us, but others came to mind: Those who were there for me in times of difficulty or mental instability; for support when I had reached rock bottom. They all cared.
I thought with gratitude of these people and then later made a list. Thirty people came to mind. All gave of themselves to others, but especially to me. None would consider themselves ‘saints,’ and none would feel comfortable having a stained-glass window erected to respect them. But I can picture each person being illuminated from a place of honour. I can also give thanks for their love, understanding and compassion to me.
This Advent, I suggest you make your own list of those people who have gone before you, and who deserve a place of honour and your thanksgiving for a life well lived—your ‘saints.’ Perhaps you could make your own Advent Calendar and fill each day with the memory of a person who really counted in your life. A time to give thanks, and to remember their gift of love.
Psalm 105:3(b) – 4, reads: “… let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice. Look to the Lord and his strength; Seek his face always.”
Thanks be to God!
[email protected]
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