The G# and the A# bells that were added to the tower in 2012 weigh about 91kgs (about 200 lbs) each. They measure approximately 52cm and 45cm (20 and 18 inches) respectively, in diameter.

 

On February 21st, we welcomed members of the Channen family as we acknowledge their contribution to the fabric of the church in the form of the Empty Tomb window, dedicated to the glory of God and the memory of the Rev. Canon A. Gordon Channen (Incumbent 1941-1953). The Rev. Channen is described in archival documents as being ‘infectiously lighthearted’ and having a ‘welcoming sense of humour’ and a ‘kindly spirit.’ We were delighted to have his grown children join us as part of our anniversary year and to be able to honour him and this beautiful window as part of our Lenten observance.

The beauty of the Channen memorial window is how strikingly alive it seems. Iconic symbols of the Resurrection—lilies or the   phoenix—which are typical of Easter windows are not present here. This is not a set or iconographic composition. Rather it is a dramatized depiction of this singular moment of discovery, a glimpse of a narrative in progress.

The women have only just arrived. The spices to prepare Jesus’ body are still in their hands. Of the two women standing, notice the woman in the full white veil. By the tilt of her jaw and the clarity of her profile, we can tell her gaze is intently upon the angel. Her expression shows no doubt. It is beautifully  reposed, almost hopeful. She does not turn away. Her posture and the restraining hand of the other woman suggest a  continuing forward motion. The hem of her gown and her head covering still swing out behind her as if she has only just come to a stop. The woman in blue has dropped to her knees, but here too the attitude of her body suggests she has only just been halted in surprise. She has raised one hand to her face, but in the other she still holds the ewer of spices. Her approach has been abruptly checked by the presence of the angel.

The right-hand panel presents such a contrast to the attitudes in the left-hand panel. Here the angel’s face is neutral and placid. Our eyes are drawn to the empty tomb by the drape of sheets and the angel’s outstretched hand, but the image is essentially without motion. There are no raised arms, clasped hands, no swinging hems, no haste arrested nor faces averted. The angel sits in pacific stillness here.

License has been taken of course in representing a sepulcher instead of a cave, and the empty tomb, trailing sheets, and the bare cobblestones in the foreground occupy a relatively large portion of the panel. Paradoxically this panel is essentially an image of nothing. And yet it is everything.

The empty tomb, abandoned burial cloths, the placid angel are carefully contrasted with the energy of the women’s arrival.       Similarly the mute rocks and dark tomb are balanced by the brilliant blues and whites and the tumultuous glass of the sky above the women’s heads, where we see the effect of clouds rolling away and a new rising sun breaking through.

Finally, in the circular window that tops the two panels, we find the chalice and paten (with the draped corporal echoing the   lines of the women’s dresses and the discarded burial cloths). There, above all else, are the emblems of the Christ who died and     who is resurrected for us.

The most southerly window on the east wall of the church was installed and dedicated in 1970 in memory of  William Clarence Town and Georgina Isabelle Phillips Town. The window beautifully depicts the Adoration of the Shepherds.

Notice how the posture of Mary, in traditional blue, in the right-hand panel is mirrored in the stance of the shepherd, also in blue, in the left panel. The shepherd cradles a lamb in his arms in a way that echoes Mary’s tender grasp on the Christ child. Often in depictions of the Adoration of the Shepherds, a lamb is depicted as if sleeping at the foot of the manger to symbolize the slain Lamb of God. Here the lamb in the foreground looks alert and adoring as if to remind us to be like the Bethlehem shepherds who eagerly went to see and hear and rejoice in the birth of our Saviour. The lamp, just above Joseph’s shoulder, is the traditional symbol of wisdom and the search for faith.

In the circular window above, the star of Bethlehem is featured, set in eye-catching strips of varying shades of blue, and surrounded by seven stars, perhaps the seven stars that are the angels (messengers) of the Book of Revelation, which are a sign that we should walk steadfastly with God.

Mr. Town, a funeral director, moved his family to Whitby from Brockville in 1927 and established his business on Brock Street South. From that time until their deaths, Mr. and Mrs. Town were faithful servants of both the parish church of All Saints’ Church and the town of Whitby.

They were most generous with their time and treasures and left a legacy to All Saints’, not only in gifts that are still used in the church today, but also in a family of children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren who continue to worship at and contribute to the life of this church.

The Town family and the beautiful Adoration window were recognized in our service on Janury 17 as part of our 150th anniversary celebrations.

 

You know that you’re a true “nerd of all things Anglican” if you, like me, eagerly look forward to seeing the stoles and chasubles of visiting Priests and Bishops. What does the vestment’s design say about the wearer? Does it match the liturgical season? Does it have symbols that represent aspects of the wearer’s faith experience? “Oh, that’s an interesting stole,” one might hear from the pews as guest clergy process down the aisle.

What’s that you say? Stole? The truth is, we see church vestments every week, but we may not know their true names or origin. During our 150th year, let’s take a closer look at my favourite vestment–the stole.

The stole is the decorative scarf that an officiant wears during a church service. Here at All Saints’, clergy typically wear stoles with colours representing the liturgical seasons. The lower portion contains a symbol of faith. Common history suggests that ancient government officials wore stoles as a badge of office. Slaves and servants also wore cloths around their necks for cleaning and polishing. In the church, therefore, that the stole takes on these two roles. In the Anglican Church, you can identify a Deacon as they wear their stole diagonally from shoulder to waist. Ordained clergy always wear their stoles around the shoulder more like a scarf. At one time, the stole may have been used by celebrant to clean the chalice during the service. Too expensive for this purpose today, the stole is a symbol of that cleaning cloth and reminds us that the celebrant (whether Deacon, Priest or Bishop) remains a servant of Christ.

The next time you are in church, take a closer look at the vestments you see. You’ll be the envy of your pew when you are able to quickly identify a visiting Deacon from a Priest or gently correct someone who may confuse a stole for a common tippet.

~Bertie Weatherbottom, Notes & Queries Reporter for the 150th.