Last night I went with my parents, and Emily Yeskoo and her family, to a special Christmas carol service at L'Arche Daybreak. L'Arche is a community for mentally challenged people in Richmond Hill, and any of you who have read Henry Nouwen's work will know that he was a key figure there until he died.
It is built like an ark, and the interior is absolutely beautiful. It overlooks a lake, and the residents live in homes around the lake. There is a woodwork shop and a candle making shop where they learn skills each day. The main building has a wonderful chapel and many retreats are held there too.
I have mentioned Emily on this blog before, but not in a while. Emily is 13 years old and has MLD, a terminal neurological disease which has taken most of her physical abilities away and confined her to a chair. My family and hers have become very special friends over the past year and a half and I have the privilege of working with Emily every Wednesday. I also worked with her full time for 2 1/2 months over the summer. The richness and lessons that this family have brought to my life are irreplaceable, and I love them to death!
Emily has started going to L'Arche two mornings a week for special classes and worship times. The worship group she attends is called the "Spirit Movers" and they praise the Lord through movement in an incredibly beautiful and profound way. Last night the Spirit Movers were participating in the carol service, which is why I ended up at L'Arche. My Mum has been asking me to come for ages, this place has become her second home since moving to Canada and she identifies with the people and the community there more than anywhere else.
I watched beauty and freedom dance last night.
The service was beautiful, involving the telling of the Christmas story through carols, scripture reading, and dance. Each person who participated did so with such freedom; there was no expectations for a polished performance, or a schedule that had to be kept to; people were allowed to take their time, make mistakes (which weren't mistakes at all) and embrace us all into their world in each moment.
Emily's dance was a beautiful expression of praise, and she had such peace on her face as non-wheelchair dancers lifted her hands and spun her chair around in worship.
As the members of L'Arche expressed their love for Jesus, I sat and cried.
I felt handicapped.
Here they understood what it means to be free, to live a life of uninhibited love and worship. As soon as the final prayer was spoken, the room errupted into noise and dance. The piano played a lively tune and their excitement and joy knew no bounds. In complete freedom and with pure beauty, they danced and yelled and laughed and sang, their faces shining brightly with the glory of God.
The depth and profoundity of this moment cannot be captured in my writing, aside from to say that being there amongst them made me feel purified and that beauty was re-defined for me last night.
In the words of Henry Nouwen, "
Knowing God's heart means consistently, radically and very concretely to announce and reveal that God is love and only love, and that every time fear, isolation or despair begins to invade the human soul, this is not something that comes from God. This sounds very simple and maybe even trite, but very few people know that they are loved without any conditions or limits."
These people know.
I want to know.