A CRY OF ANGUISH

 

Remembrance Day in Rotterdam

November 11, 2012

 

 

Remembrance Day in Europe has so much more poignancy than in Canada.  We sent troops and we lost many lives.  It's true.

Here, many soldiers' lives were lost too but ordinary civilians lost their lives, their homes, everything they owned, their workplaces, their cities; cities that weren't bombed into oblivion turned their flower gardens into potato patches for their citizens; the civilians in cities that were bombed were terrorized for years and then spent years cleaning up the rubble; people starved and ate flower bulbs; clothes wore out...

I had the privilege of being in Rotterdam, Holland to take part in a Peace Service on Remembrance Day.  In May 1940, a German Blitz razed the centre of this city to the ground - nothing remained except the shell of one church.  Today it is a thriving hub of daring new architecture and economic growth.  They have rebuilt the heart of their city.  As I looked at the bustling port and the cranes still constructing new buildings, I was struck by the thought that the heart of this new city was younger than me.

 

Erasmus Bridge

 

 





The citizens worked together to rebuild their city

 

 

 

But the monument that silenced me

                              and retold the city's story of pain so vividly was                            

 

                                                                  the cry of anguish

on the face of this distorted bronze statue of

 

 

De Verwoeste Stad (The Devastated City)

whose heart had been ripped out



Lest we forget .........................



 

 

 

 

 

LA TOUSSAINT

Hallowe'en is not a celebration here.

La  Toussaint is.

La Toussaint is a two-day celebration of two related Roman Catholic holidays.  The first of November is All Saints' Day.  It's a public holiday in Belgium.  Families come together and usually go to the cemetery to honour their deceased relatives and put chrysanthemums on their graves.  These flowers are, strangely enough, associated with death.  People never give them as gifts!

The next day, November second is All Souls' Day.  This is the day people are supposed to go to the cemetery but since it's not a public holiday, the Belgians tend to go on the first.

Off I went to the Ixelles Cemetery to see what I could see with my camera, so come along with me!  It's a cold, blustery autumn day so wear your gloves and a warm coat and we'll see what's different in a Belgium cemetery from a Canadian one.

just like a city with avenues and lanes

memorial to those who died in both World Wars

The Solway family's tombstone was created by the Art Nouveau architect Victor Horta

Chrysanthemums are associated with death here

a bronze statue snipping the thread of life with his scissors

columbaria



Most graves are covered with a large slab of marble or stone





 





SURPRISE!!

While all you Canadians and Americans in the north (at least most of the ones I know) are pulling up wilted plants and city workers are climbing ladders to remove frostbitten hanging baskets of flowers ........

Brusselers are planting pansies for the winter season!! 

I forgot about you dear friends on the west coast who are enjoying roses right now :)

OCTOBER GOLD

Autumn comes in October to Brussels: golds, browns and some reds but I miss the intense scarlet of the sugar maples in the sunlight. 

 

                                 Rain comes more frequently, leaving shiny paving stones

 

                                                              and night falls sooner.

 

But Brusselers still sit outside at tables on the sidewalk .....They just dress a little more warmly :)

It was a gorgeous day today and I wanted to share it with you.  Brussels "cried" as she always does at least once a day: today it was about 15 minutes and then the afternoon sun came out, bringing us all out into the streets and squares to soak up the sunshine.  Coats, hats, gloves and scarves.... but all the café chairs facing the sun were full!  The paving stones on the streets were shiny, the yellow leaves too and the sun shone.  Flower stalls were full of yellow, brown and red mums.  And I had fun wandering with my camera around an old neighbourhood of Brussels called Les Marolles, looking curiously into antique shops, old junk and clothing stores, churches and a flea market, and down narrow cobblestone alleys.  An absolutely wonderful way to spend an afternoon :)

I have been very remiss in putting up posts on my blog since August.  I have been so busy with guests and some travelling that I just haven't sat down to do this.  I apologize and promise to do better, so don't give up on me!!

HERE I COME !

Today is my birthday ... my birth day.

Every year, when this day comes around, I think of my mother.  I wonder about the joy she had at my arrival, her first child.  But birthing is only part of the story: mothering is so much more and my mother was a wonderful mother.  So much of who I am, I learned from my mother.  I hope she would be proud of me today as she would watch me live.

And I think of my Dad.  Today I am 70, a long way from my birth day!  Unconsciously, I think, Dad has been my model of what Christian service is like as one ages.  Yes, I am like my mother but I have been discovering that my "heart responses", my devotion to God, resembles my father's.  I hope he would be proud of me today as he would watch me live out my faith in God.

And I think of me. Twenty years ago, I would not have imagined that my life at 70 would look like this.  Davd and I had plans, great plans for what our old age would look like.  But God had other plans for me, plans I wouldn't have chosen for myself, some that I would never have thought I could bear.  I have been through some dark valleys, I have leaned so heavily on my Abba that anyone else than He would have fallen over.  But through it all, I have learned who He is and who I am as "me".  I have learned a lot about grace and compassion.  I have learned a lot about true friendship.  I have been surrounded by loving, caring, upholding family and friends.

And I've had the fun of exploring my crazy, adventurous, spontaneous side ... and I like it!

So, today, Happy Birthday to me!  I like who I am at 70 :).  I humbly kneel before my God, my Abba, and thank Him for making me, for His faithful care, patience, strength and guidance during my whole life, and particularly these last 11 years.  Then, drawing on that strength, I stand up and say "Here I come, world!"

"Since my youth, O God, you have taught me, and to this day I declare your marvellous deeds.  Even when I am old and grey, do not forsake me, O God, till I declare your power to the next generation."  .. and I'm having fun doing it!
Psalm 71:17-18

A RIOT OF COLOUR!

      For 5 days in August, Brussel's Grand'Place becomes a riot of colour!  Everyone knows about it but it's a surprise at the same time so there is an air of expectancy that floats over the city during these days.
      Every two years, the Grand'Place is covered in a carpet of real flowers.  A design has been chosen, a frame is built and flowers are shipped in from the nursery fields around Belgium - appropriate colours for the design.  This year the theme is Africa, so there are hundreds of boxes of red, yellow, pink and white begonia petals, and hundreds of boxes of white, brown and yellow mums - 600,000 flowers, we are told.  Plus loads of boxes of coloured wood shavings (mostly brown and blue this year).  Not to forget rolls and rolls of grass sod.

On the first day, the frame is made and the sod is laid, according to the design.  All the workers are volunteers - this carpet is a tradition and it's an honour to be able to work on it.

On the second day, the flowers, petals and shavings are put in place, again by volunteers.  I hadn't realised that most of the carpet is petals, billions of them.  Evening falls, the work is done and Brussels is waiting expectantly for the finished product.

And what a spectacle awaits us on the morning of the third day!!  It blows your mind!  It's absolutely gorgeous!  It's huge!

I go up on the city hall balcony but still am not able to get it all in, it's so big!

WILL NO ONE RID ME OF THIS TURBULENT PRIEST?

If you know the story surrounding this question, then you know where I've been recently :)  If not, read on....

Before I left for Canada, my new friend, Dominique Mentior, a lovely Belgian Walloon (= French-speaking) said: "Nancy, you must walk on the cliffs of Dover and see the Canterbury Cathedral".  Now, who could say no to that?  So she packed me into her car and we drove across Belgium and France to Dunkerque, where we got the ferry to Dover, England.  And the weather couldn't have been more perfect!

And the cliffs of Dover are as white as I imagined them, even up close.  Down little country roads we went (on the lefthand side of the road, of course!) to St. Margaret's-at-Cliffe, where we parked the car and hiked along the cliffs.  What a beautiful experience under a blue sky, through fields of wild flowers and alongside a busy, blue English Channel!





The county of Kent that we drove through on our way to Canterbury was exactly as one would expect England to be: villages, tree-lined country lanes, timber-framed houses, flintstone cottages, beautiful gardens, lots of roses, pubs offering ale and steak & kidney pie and an ambiance that made me feel I was on a stroll down a country lane on a Sunday afternoon.





And then, just as Chaucer's pilgrims in The Canterbury Tales, we walked through the streets of Canterbury to the history-laden cathedral.  What an exquisite building!  It stands alone in all its

beauty in an oasis of green, in the midst of a busy town.  It's so huge you can't get a full photo of it.

If this cathedral could talk, its stones would tell you many stories.   Let me tell you three that meant a lot to me.

 

 

1. Thomas Becket was ordained Archbishop of Canterbury in 1162 by Henry II .... and murdered in the cathedral in 1170 by four of his knights.  Henry is purported to have said: "Who will rid me of this turbulent priest?!"  A rift had grown between them over disagreements concernng the separation of Church and State.

                                    place in the cathedral where he was assassinated



2. In the latter half of the 16th century, after  the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes in France that withdrew from the Huguenots (or Protestants) their freedom of religion, thousands of Huguenots from France and Walloons from Belgium streamed across the English Channel to England as refugees, seeking religious freedom. 

    Edward VI, being intensely Protestant and eager to have England's cotton woven in England rather than in Belgium, welcomed them to Canterbury and gave them the crypt of the cathedral to worship in.  There were around 900 of them at that time.

    As their number decreased, they were granted the chantry chapel of the Black Prince, in the crypt, and it is used by a French Huguenot/Protestant congregation to this day.  One of the older elders of St. Andrew's in Brussels, was the minister here for many years!  It was an exciting place for me to visit, so filled with history!

3. In World War II, during bombing raids, the cathedral was protected by firewatchers who sat on the roofs of the cathedral and patrolled them, dealing with incendiary bombs.

Canterbury Cathedral is a huge tourist attraction but it is also a quiet, serious place of worship.  I wanted to experience this, so Dominique and I went to Matins in the morning - a meditative, reflective Communion service, and Evensong in the late afternoon - held in the Quire and with a choir of men who sang the chants.  Very meaningful for me.

Canterbury also has timber-framed houses, good pubs, lovely gardens, lots of roses, narrow 16th century streets with cobblestones, and Roman walls.  It was fun to explore with my camera.