Hart House Chapel

This Holy Week, I stepped into a space that’s often overlooked in the hustle of the University of Toronto campus: the Hart House Chapel. Tucked away behind the grand hallways and stone archways, it’s a space of quiet reverence — a simple room of carved wood, clean lines, and soft light. It felt like walking into a pause.

I came in just after midday, camera in hand, but found myself putting it down for a moment. There’s something about this place that asks you to slow down.

The chapel was named by Vincent Massey, the first Canadian-born Governor General, in memory of his wife, Alice Parkin Massey. She passed away in 1950, and the dedication is a subtle act of love — one that gives the chapel its enduring, peaceful soul. You can feel it in the way the light settles across the wooden altar, and in the hush that seems to hang in the air, even with the bustle of Hart House just beyond the door.

I made a black-and-white photo of the altar capturing the stripped-down serenity of the room. No grand windows or ornate chandeliers — just wood, history, and a quiet kind of holiness.

On the small side lectern, a Bible lay open. No one had disturbed it. I didn’t check the passage — I liked the idea that someone else might come by and discover it on their own. That’s the kind of place this is: a quiet, shared moment, passed from visitor to visitor.

As I left, I realized this was probably the stillest moment of my entire week — a rare gift during a time of reflection. And maybe that’s the real heart of Holy Week: finding peace in quiet corners, in acts of remembrance, and in spaces carved from love.