Ray Anglesea shares the second installment of his blog
Huron Carol revisited
“Twas in the moon of winter-time, when
all the birds had fled,
that mighty Gitchi Manitou sent angel choirs instead”
that mighty Gitchi Manitou sent angel choirs instead”
The
Huron carol is a common Christmas hymn in many Christian denominations. Canadian
in origin it was probably written in 1642 by a Jesuit Missionary, the melody
based on a traditional French folk song. The English version of the hymn uses Canadian
imagery in place of the traditional Nativity. Jesus is born in a "lodge of
broken bark", and wrapped in a "robe of rabbit skin". He is
surrounded by hunters instead of shepherds and Magi are portrayed as
"chiefs from afar" that bring him "fox and beaver pelts"
instead of the more familiar gifts. The hymn also uses a traditional Algonquian
name, Gitchi Manitou for God.
And
it was to Manitoulin Island the home of Gitchi
Manitou and peopled 300 year ago by Ottawa Indians that I headed to in June
2014, a long 8 hour drive north of Toronto with a refreshing overnight stopover
at the beautiful Georgian Bay. Manitoulin Island is a Canadian Lake Island in
Lake Huron, the largest fresh water lake island in the world where native life
and legend combine with European history. I was heading to the small community
of Sandfield, some distance from the island town of Manitowaning the first
European settlement, near to the small town of Wikwemikong which remains the
only unceded Indian Reserve in Canada.
Durham
Canon Stephen Cherry writing in his blog “Another
Angle” May 2014 stated that he “believes
in sabbaticals, and would encourage clergy to make the most of the opportunity
not for productivity, but for a deeper sort of renewal. Big things can happen
on sabbaticals, especially if they are not over-planned and if there is an
element of exploration and an intentional stepping outside of the personal
comfort-zone.”
Out
of my comfort-zone on the island was indeed an under-statement! My nephew in his wind-up about the island had
not prepared me for the worst - no internet connection and no WiFi! Having
lived and worked in Africa I could just about cope with packs of mosquitoes, a
15 minute drive to the nearest highway, 30 minutes to the nearby shop, and lack
of nearby medical facilities. For
a person who can’t function at all
without constant input and support from other people, I had a feeling that I may be overwhelmed and
trapped by boredom and fear on Peter’s 35 acre estate; in a large bungalow designed
in the style of that famous American architect Frank Lloyd Wright, with lawns
that rolled down to the lakeside, the large wooded estate comprising of
stables, childrens cabins, tennis courts and a boat house. Could I manage without my daily habitual ways
of seeing the world through technology, particularly through social media
networks for which, I freely I admit, I am a prisoner? The cottage at Sandfield
maybe beautiful, the beavers and brightly coloured humming birds awesome, the silver
lake shimmering in its early morning glory, but it is hard to be cut off
completely, and the instinct to switch on the phone, just in case, is
overwhelming.
After 48 hours of reading, walking, taking
the speedboat out for a spin, dinners at local restaurants, the urge to switch
on gradually subsided. The imposed de-clutter, the enforced detachment, freed
the heart to honest self-appraisal and confession uttered from the deepest
place.
God had brought me intentionally I suspect to
a retreat place, to rest and relax, to find a deeper sort of renewal, to explore again the beauty and love of his
world. Peace and stillness began to settle on me.
I guess most of us want to think of ourselves as good,
kind, intelligent and caring people. Sometimes that’s true. Sometimes it isn’t.
I guess reality is complex. Everything
we have, I suspect everything we’ve learned about our faith came to us through
someone else’s hands. At our best, we pass on this borrowed faith to others,
enhanced by our contribution. At our worst, we waste and squander it. And in
that week I began to realize that the truth really does set you free; free to
work on being better and to forgive yourself for being human; free to express
your gratitude to others and recognize what you owe them; free to acknowledge
your feelings without letting them dominate your life. Above all, free to
understand the truth of living: that much of what happens to you is no more
than chance. It can’t be avoided and is not my fault.
But this week’s communion with God is ultimately I
believe to help me reach out afresh to those around me. After all Adam could
not cope with being alone – God had to give him a companion in order that human
life in all its depth and richness could begin. I guess we are hardwired for relationship,
for connectivity. It struck me therefore there is a profound synchronicity
between the yearning for connection with God and our connectivity with one
another. I guess the Ottawa Indians may have used smoke signals to connect with
one other long ago, (to sing the Huron Carol perhaps?), my iPhone is another
way. But the same search for reception in the remotest place stems from the
same impulse that drove Moses up a hill all those centuries ago, to communicate
with the divine and to return with the ultimate hardware, the building blocks
for human and divine relating.
So unashamed I was thrilled to hear my phone beeping
at Tim Hortons when we left the
island - Tim Hortons is a Canadian multinational fast
casual restaurant known for its coffee and doughnuts. It
is also Canada's largest fast food service; and offers free WiFi. Yippee!
Ray Anglesea
May 2014
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