Where the Good Way Lies - This collection of songs follows no predetermined theme. These are simply the songs I happen to write since my last CD was released two years ago. They reflect the musings and concerns of a middle-aged, middle-class Christian guy, husband, father, and grandfather living on the Canadian prairies. But I sincerely hope I have written “open” songs. In other words, I hope I have written hospitably, in a way that invites others to the table whose experience and understanding is wholly different from mine. Here are the stories behind each song that you will find on this new album: Bring It On This song was first written and recorded in summer 2015 in collaboration with Murray Pulver for his album, The Guest List. We wanted to write something lighthearted to celebrate the wide swath of extreme weather that is the Canadian experience, as it mirrors the bracing depth and complexity of our lives. I couldn’t have anticipated the struggles that would follow and that tacitly lie behind many of the songs on this album, and so, a year later this song seems just a little less “lighthearted” than when we first wrote it. But that’s the way it is with songs… they often seem to know more than those who write them. Love Song I recorded an album of my favourite Bruce Cockburn songs several years ago and I’m not sure how I missed including this one. A friend recently commented on this old gem in a way that had me scrambling to revisit it, and I’m happy to recast it here “better late than never.” Cockburn is often celebrated for his guitar prowess and searing, prophetic insight, but too rarely, in my opinion, for his beautiful melodies and more gentle sentiments. I’m happy if I can, in part, redress this imbalance. Where the Good Way Lies The word conflation comes to mind when I think about how this song came together. The core of melody is borrowed from a song my friend Gerry St. Cyr wrote over 30 years ago that we used to perform together. The lyrics were initially inspired by a hand-stitched quilt, designed and created by Metis elder Ruby Payette from Lac Du Bonnet, Manitoba, that memorializes the seven sacred teachings of Indigenous wisdom. The seven days of creation come from my own Judeo-Christian tradition, and all of us share the earth’s four elements, the four directions and the four colors representing all races. Fresh IE (Blackfoot/Bajan, adopted by Siksika Nation) brings the unlikely addition of rap into the mix, and Co-Co Ray Stevenson (Oji-Cree, Pequis First Nation) so powerfully and lovingly contributes his traditional voice and song. My brother-in-law, Vince Fontaine (Ojibway, Sagkeeng First Nation) produced Co-Co’s contribution. And We Dance "You were within, but I was without. You were with me, but I was not with you. So you called, you shouted, you broke through my deafness, you flared, you blazed, and banished my blindness, you lavished your fragrance, and I gasped." —Augustine “You run like a herd of luminous deer and I am dark, I am forest.” —Rainer Maria Rilke, from The Book of Hours The above words by Augustine kick-started the beginning of a song that lay dormant and unfinished for the better part of a year before my assistant, Amy Knight, recalled to me a separate poem that I had written at another time, inspired partly by a line from Rilke. With only slight modification, the two fragments of text fit together quite nicely to complete the song. It never ceases to amaze me how songs come together in such a variety of ways. It’s a wonder really. Bethany In Morning Here is a song for Palm Sunday, the day we remember Jesus launching his “triumphal entry” into Jerusalem from the unlikely home of Lazarus in the town of Bethany. The name Lazarus means “God helps” while Bethany means “the house of misery.” God helps the house of misery would be an ill-advised political campaign slogan in our day, but from the revelation of God in scripture, it seems rather appropriate for the day of the Lord. Wait Alone in Stillness (Psalm 62) I wrote this song on December 10, 2015: the day the first Syrian refugees of the current crisis landed on Canadian soil. I had been praying that Canadians, and especially their churches, would respond prodigally to the crisis. Psalm 62 was that morning’s lectionary reading, and this song quickly whelmed alongside the sudden recognition that God, so often depicted as our refuge in the Old Testament, was born into the status of homeless refugee in the New. It seems to me that “refuge for the refugee” is not only good news for those fleeing war-stricken countries, but is something of the Good News itself. Freedom Road dedicated to Shoal Lake 40 First Nation and Cuyler Cotton In June of 2015 I helped organize Churches for Freedom Road to join with other solidarity groups in support of Shoal Lake 40 First Nation, a community that was forcibly relocated more than 100 years ago to make room for Winnipeg’s aqueduct. For generations, Shoal Lake 40 implored Settler governments to right the wrong of their artificially imposed isolation. At long last, on December 17, 2015, municipal, provincial, and federal representatives met with leaders of the First Nation and signed an agreement to build a road from the reserve to the Trans-Canada Highway. That road, currently under construction, is aptly called Freedom Road. A Better Resurrection for Mom The lyric for this song comes from a poem written by Christina Rossetti (1830 – 1894), whom I can’t think about without thinking of my mother. The two share a quality of suffering and a capacity for beauty that, for me, binds them together. I stumbled on this poem around the same time that it became necessary to commit my mom to a care home, as complications from aging made independent living untenable. Love is Our Way “Love is our way to God, for God is Love.” —Augustine This song was inspired by a sermon preached at St. Margaret’s Anglican Church in Winnipeg by Rev. David Widdicombe for the fifth Sunday of Eastertide, 2015. David is an exceptional preacher whose poetic prose can be rather arresting. And so it is not only his ideas that constitute the lyrics of this song, but many of his sermon’s lines are directly quoted with only minor alterations for the sake of the song’s form. Let Beauty Awake for Lyle, Ben and Dan, in memory of Kathy Barkman (1958 – 2016) Some time ago I discovered a sermon online by NT Wright where he quoted three stanzas of a Robert Louis Stevenson poem in the body of his address. The poem inspired melody, and I added a few stanzas of my own before I discovered that the third of the three stanzas quoted was actually penned by Wright himself. I could have worse writing partners. Ash Wednesday I attended a particularly moving Ash Wednesday service in February, 2016 at St. Margaret’s Anglican Church in Winnipeg. At the time, I was feeling rather woe-begotten over so many well-intentioned but often painful misfires made in our (humanity’s) attempts at faithful response to the love that is God. That evening I was gently reminded, in word and song, how God re-directs our sincere efforts and humbly receives our intention to love, even if the arrows of our soul’s desires don’t always hit the target. O Love (Come To Us) In the spring of 2016 I performed a reunion concert with Unlikely Icon, a band from the early 90’s comprised of me, Larry Campbell, Gord Johnson. During rehearsals, Gord pulled out this new song as one we might learn for the event. I had been feeling like this album was short one song, and instantly knew that this would be the one to complete the collection. Judy’s Garden in memory of Judith Ford (1954 – 2014) Hanging on our kitchen wall is an abstract painting by Faye Hall called Judy’s Garden. Judy Ford was a mutual friend who profoundly impacted many lives and who passed away from cancer on January 8, 2014. Months later, I wrote this piece sitting at our kitchen table. When done, I looked up and saw the painting, and knew what the song was to be called. I wish to dedicate this song to my wife, Nanci, who continues to miss Judy rather acutely.