Compline

Java Joe's. A unique blend of kitsch and culture tucked between Barrett Alley and a music store, the Eastman School of Music's preferred hangout and caffeine connection. The dark walls are crammed with klediments from remote countries and niches, jumbled together in some sort of avant gaarde montage.

The acrid pungence of burnt coffee grounds smacks you in the face as you approach the single weathered wood and glass front door. Eclectic musics swirl through the air, blending with the loud conversations of people huddling round small tables packed as tightly as sardines in the proverbial tin.

There is no line at the counter, just dazed customers waiting to jump in and order as soon as a bar jockey frees up. Blackboards touting peculiarly named drinks dangle at dizzying angles overhead, ultra artistically drawn in colored chalks. I spot my friend immediately, off to one side of the array of noise and buzzing activity. I wade through mounds of people and we hug, glad to be together after a long summer that pulled us in opposite but satisfying directions.

We catch up over a strawberry smoothie (me) and a steaming cup of decaf laced with coconut, mint and almond (her). Ummmmmm. Too soon, we must head over to the Episcopal Church, wanting to be seated well before Compline begins. I have not savored the echoing resonance and ambiance of Compline's musical farewell to day and embracing of the evening, the wrapping of one's arms in God as sleep enfolds the soul.

It is deliciously fulfilling as always. In the flickering candlelight, the silence interrupted by squeaking of floor boards and gentle coughing and rustling of coats and papers. We gather, we people who seek a blessed night of peace in the house of the Almighty to pray our songs of heartfelt love to our Creator Redeemer, to hold his hand and quell our shattered nerves, our disjunct lives.

O Lord, grant me and those I love a safe evening and a peaceful end. . .
Watch over me and those I love and bring us in safety to a new day. . .

Voices rise and fall in mesmerizing rhythm unhindered by instrumental perfections. We are lulled through confession, the ave maria, the nunc dimmitis, the final amen. Too soon, shoes clomp gently against the wooden floor, muffled as the singers file out, their brown robes swaddling them against the harm of the world.

A hush settles over the sanctuary. People are in no hurry to return to the outside world. I gaze straight up at the red robed form of Jesus hanging on a crucifix overhead, at the huge angel praying beneath the altar, at the tapestry of the last supper mounted over the chancel area. It is good to be in this place. It is good to be with friends. It is good to be well. It is good to hear praise and prayer sung. It is good to have some continuity.

Deep breath. Yes, peace of God be with me and with all those I love. With my friend, with my children, with my Mom, with my siblings. Peace on earth. Amen.