July 13, 2025
Pentecost + 5
For Evelien. And James. And friends.
Please be seated. Friends,
A few weeks ago, I was serving as a door person for one of our afternoon concerts. I arrived early as Barbara and I had simply taken a break at the café at City Hall between worship and the last in Bruce Gremo’s marvelous Musical Flora concerts.
I was sitting out there in front of the three stained glass windows which are now concealed behind the organ. It took me a while to sort myself out. The light is not even. The windows were originally illumined by day from the out-of-doors a century ago out there, and from within when viewed from the out-of-doors by night. It was 1 o’clock in the afternoon, a couple of days off the longest day of the year. But the windows are now fully encased behind doors and are lighted artificially so that they may only be seen from out there … in the lesser narthex. So, I had to pay attention as much to what I might see as to what I could see easily. (Photos below.)
It took me a while to grasp that this hundred-year-old memorial to Stephanie Seagram, the wife of the local distiller Joseph Seagram, represents the cardinal virtues of Faith, Hope and Love in three two-window sets. The Latin words for faith, hope and love were originally meant to be viewed from inside and are inscribed high in the upper windows. Fides. Spes. Caritas. Sitting out there, the letters are backwards and in a couple of cases, the letters are merely suggested behind a figure’s halo for people who knew the subjects and the words.
(ad lib. Jos. Seagram. b. Fisher’s Mills between here and Hespeler. Stephanie Urbs, b. Alsace, niece of Jacob Hespeler. MP. Principal in Globe furniture. The Church of the Holy Saviour, Waterloo.)
The lower windows are in English and are to be read from outside. So, the people inside the church were presumed to understand Latin while the people on the outside would understand English. The windows were designed by a couple of come-from-England glaziers who operated the Cloisonne Art Glass Company. Their names were Jack and Joe Bullas whose faded family name still appears on the building which housed their business over on Joseph Street next to the old school.
Now, what caught my eye, was not their design but some Latin words which were visible directly across from where I was sitting and which were the first thing I noticed as I looked over and into the lower centre panel. The words break the English for the outside rule. More in a minute.
The panel is the panel for the Love or Charity motif. The main panel. Charity is an oldey-timey translation of the Latin Caritas. But it’s charity in the sense of loving by giving of oneself and the primary figure at the top is cradling a child in her arms while holding the hand of a second. This panel is about love and so the English words in the lower panel make sense: “Rooted in charity”. Rooted in love. And there is a little three-leaf clover with a small root to interpret the inscription because in the lower panels the inscriptions are the main thing rather than the images. And it’s the stuff of today’s Gospel. And, for me, it’s the stuff of the adoption motif which is how Christians understand the Sacrament of Holy Baptism. We are born into God’s world. We are adopted into God’s family. (bis) Adoption … something we offer. Adoption … something we choose. This day marks Evelien’s adoption with James and the other James and with you and me and Jean … adoption into God’s family.
Love your God and love your neighbour. And who is neighbour to the one in need? The one who showed mercy. Mercy. The favourite word of the late Pope Francis. Steadfast in faith. Joyful through hope. Rooted in charity / love. Those are the inscriptions on the three lower panels interpreting the images and the single Latin words in the upper panels.
Now as my gaze fastened across the way on the middle panel, I noticed an additional set of Latin words. It’s the only such set in the whole triptych. And it’s almost like someone put them on the wrong panel. Moreover, they face in the same direction as the English text, to be interpreted by those on the outside looking in. Three words in a play on words. Dum spiro spero. Dum … As long as … spiro … I breathe … think respiration … spero … I have hope … think espoire. The thing of it is, though, is that the inscription isn’t placed in the hope duo. It’s placed in the central love duo. Someone is saying, something like “To love … the main thing … is a matter of lifelong hope. The root of life is love. As so long as I breathe I have hope.
You cannot love your God and all of your neighbours without a lifelong commitment to, a disposition toward, a profound regard for hope. Now, when Paul and Timothy, sent off some words of encouragement to the fledgling Christian community in Colossae in modern-day Turkey, as in today’s second reading, Paul was writing to some Christians he’d never met. This was not a church he’d planted. Moreover, he’d heard that they were beset by purveyors of false teachings (something familiar to our time and generation) and they were in need of some encouragement.
So, when Paul uses the word hope, as he does in today’s reading, he’s not reading a room he knew, and he offers hope for something off in a heavenly future, a future better than whatever was to be encountered in life in the here-and-now. But there is another kind of witness. A complementary one. And it is that hope is precisely a matter of the every-day here-and-now. It’s the stuff of everyday life. It’s the stuff of Christian encouragement in our everyday journey. Even in grief. And it’s the stuff off God’s adoption. And it’s the stuff of love. Paul liked to ponder heavenly things. This morning, my affections are with Jos. Seagram and his grief for Stephanie. Rooted in love. So long as I breathe, I have hope.
In the same panel — Yes, there’s more! — there is also a soldier’s helmet at the top over which appears an outstretch arm grasping a sword. And the sword is broken. As it is raised, against the topmost edge of the frame, it snaps. It is broken. What’s that all about? The form is more heraldic in type than churchly. More the stuff of family dynasties and coats of arms than of churchly adoption. Except, the message is one that hovers about the heart of Christian truth.
Is it that love breaks the sword … or that the sword is broken in love? Is it the hope of the artist that swords will be broken? Is it the artist’s design that the love and nurture of a solitary figure for a couple of kids is mightier than the sword? I don’t know. But whoever designed the window was inviting the passer-by, the viewer looking in from outside, into some sort of journey wherein love abounds, hope is real, and swords are broken.
To my mind, these are some of the important elements of the Christian journey, the journey we all share by adoption, in Holy Baptism, the journey to which we will all pledge ourselves as Evelien is baptized this morning.
Evelien… and James… and friends. It’s lovely to journey with you.
Silence for reflection.
And may the church say “Amen”. Amen.
André Lavergne CWA (Pastor)
Honourary Assistant,
Church of St. John the Evangelist, Kitchener.
Angus Sinclair was appointed Director of Music of St. John the Evangelist on February 1, 2023. Having graduated in 1981 (Honours B.Mus.) in organ performance from Wilfrid Laurier University, he went on to distinguish himself as a church musician, recitalist and accompanist touring in both Canada and the UK. For over 40 years Angus has served parishes and congregations throughout Southwestern Ontario as director of music. He experiences his present appointment to St. John’s as a welcome homecoming, both spiritually and musically.
As our parish musician, he provides both support and leadership so that a variety of parish programs can find musical expression and attract participation. When our handbell choir is in season, he is one of our ringers. At parish dinners, he provides popular piano music for the guests to dine by. For both worship services and concerts, he will rehearse and accompany vocal and instrumental soloists from our congregation on piano, organ, or even accordion.
Angus Sinclair was appointed Director of Music of St. John the Evangelist on February 1, 2023. Having graduated in 1981 (Honours B.Mus.) in organ performance from Wilfrid Laurier University, he went on to distinguish himself as a church musician, recitalist and accompanist touring in both Canada and the UK. For over 40 years Angus has served parishes and congregations throughout Southwestern Ontario as director of music. He experiences his present appointment to St. John’s as a welcome homecoming, both spiritually and musically.