Taking the bridge over to Canada is almost always a delight. Whether it is the close-up view of Niagara Falls on theRainbow Bridge, the tree-lined path of the Lewiston-Queenston Bridge, or the cityscape view of downtown Buffalo on the Peace Bridge, these human-made structures are truly among the seven wonders of Western New York.
Except when the trip isn't delightful. There have been years when traffic has built up so far it extends past the Duty Free station and into the highway beyond it. Hours of waiting, trying to find the perfect line through the border crossing, only to have the guards change shifts just before it's your turn, is aggravating to say the least. The fight through state -run bureaucracy, can take the fun out of a quick trip into Canada.
But, even after all of my years in Buffalo, I still can't get over how lucky we are to be so close to the other side. While New York City may technically be close enough to drive, the big city of Toronto is a place where you can spend the day and get back before dinner. Niagara-on-the-Lake, Hamilton, and the Canadian side of the Falls make for great family trips, or just brief reprieves from our country’s politics.
For almost a decade, I have been leading services once a summer at a small church right past Crystal Beach. The Holloway Memorial Chapel on Abino Bay is a sweet, down-to-earth interfaith prayer space that has been in operation since 1894.
Not having a spiritual leader of their own, they invite clergy from the surrounding area to lead their Sunday services all summer long. On any given week, you might encounter a Catholic priest, a Protestant minister, or even a Jewish rabbi. In the 50-125 seat, white-painted room, time seems to stop. There are no microphones or modern electronics, just the sound of the voices of the choir, mixed together with a collection of Canadian and American congregants singing familiar melodies.
I consider it an honor to lead one of their services every summer, even if it means waking up early to brave the Peace Bridge traffic. This year, I had added trepidation, not of long lines at the border stations but of cold stares from the border guards. The recent tariff wars have put a damper on American-Canadian relations. Fortunately, as I made my way across, I encountered only love and support. It turns out that Canadians, despite the frosty relations between our political leaders, were as nice as ever.
And, at the chapel, this was doubly true. Having recently lost their long-time organist, Barbara Ann Cosby, a gem of a woman who always made me feel at home, they were especially glad to see me. Barbara died quite suddenly in May, only a few weeks before the start of the season.
As always, I began with a prayer for the heads of state: their prime minister, our president, the secretary-general of the United Nations, and the king of England. Then, over the course of an hour, we prayed together, hoped together, consoled together while shutting out the outside noise and focusing on the inner peace of the space.
As I left, easily making the crossing over the border, I celebrated the beauty of reIations that no amount of politicalposturing could ever fully dampen.