Acting Parish Priest's Desk Archive July to December 07
Recently we celebrated the feasts of St Thomas More and St John Fisher, English martyrs. John Fisher was a bishop and Thomas More was a married man with children. More is the better known and there are many books about him as well as the play by Robert Bolt from which the film ‘A man for All Seasons' was made. He fascinates us still because he gave up one of the highest positions in England and the power that went with it in order to be faithful to what he believed about the proper relationship between secular and ecclesial power. John Fisher faced the same decision and paid the same price. They gave their lives because they could not betray their faith.
Such integrity reflects that of Jesus. It says yes for yes and no for no. It says “I have principles and they are important to me”. It is as relevant now as it ever was. You and I are unlikely to pay a big price for being people of integrity but if we are then we will surely pay a price at some stage. It may be hidden from other people but it is not hidden from God and it is not hidden from ourselves. Neither are the times when we betray our principles. If this has happened to us then it is not the end of the story because we can repent and be forgiven and start again renewed.
It has been said that the problem of this supposedly post-Christian age is that people don't know what their principles are and so have no idea when they betray them. I don't know if this is true or not but we who are Christians are not in that situation. It is not always clear what the right thing is but it usually is. And when it is not clear we have the guidance of prayer and of the Church to inform our conscience.
Integrity means wholeness, being ‘one', that is to say, undivided in our essence as a person. It means that the words we say and the actions we carry out are in conformity with what we think and believe. It sounds a bit complicated but it is not in fact. Sometimes people who lead very simple lives exhibit this quality and can remind us of its importance. We live in complicated times but the temptations we face have not changed over the millennia, only the form they take changes. Let us pray that these English martyrs, part of our family of faith and so our ancestors in the faith, will encourage us to be people who have the courage of our convictions. And, having such courage, will not be found wanting when we are put to the test.
In the Lord, Peter.
I would like to revisit a column I wrote earlier this year on the matter of forgiveness. I know that some people find great difficulty in forgiving those who have seriously hurt them. This is true for some who as children felt abandoned by one or both parents or were abused by an adult. It is true for some who as adolescents or young adults were publicly humiliated and
shamed by someone. It is true for soldiers or victims of war who experienced inhuman cruelty. They find it extremely difficult to forgive the perpetrator or perpetrators and even when they try find that they fail. The hurt returns and with it the anger against the offender.
The fact is that we have to forgive if we are to be Christians. We cannot gloss over this, it is central to the Gospel. But we cannot be glib about it either. It is no easy matter, and the deeper the hurt the harder it is. We will not be able to do it by our own strength but we will do it by God's strength.
However there are some things to remember. Firstly, it will do us no good at all to pretend it didn't happen or wasn't serious. We are not asked to forget, we are asked to forgive. We have to name the hurt, the indignity, the suffering, whatever is at the root of the pain, and acknowledge the source of it. We have to be able to state the offence that we are wanting to forgive in the clear light of truth. This can take a long time. Children sometimes bury their pain or believe that they deserve the unjust treatment they received. It can resurface later in life and be a source of deep confusion.
Secondly, we need to remember that forgiveness means to be able to love the offender, to wish them well, to desire their good, to ask blessings on them. It does not mean that the sin is, or ever was, not a sin, sometimes the kind that cries out to heaven for justice. It is not glossing over an evil, it is an attitude towards the person who committed the sin, someone in need of God's mercy. It may take a long time for this forgiveness to be realized but it is the end we aim at, it is what we want to do; be able to say from the heart “I forgive”. If we are not there yet we do not give up. We practice by praying for the perpetrator.
And that in the end is what it is about, putting our pain into God's hands and asking healing, for ourselves and for the others who eventually, are not ‘others' but our brothers and sisters. May those who face these challenges find that the Lord is with them in the midst of it all and may they be confident that one day they will triumph over sin too.
In the Lord, Peter.
Recently we have had the sad experience of learning about further dimensions to a sex abuse case concerning a past teacher and students from Daramalan College. At the same time there were further revelations about child sex abuse in remote communities in Northern Australia. They are not related except in so far as they both involve gross infringements of the rights of children and young people in an aspect of their persons where they are extremely vulnerable. Because Daramalan is an MSC school and because there are many in the parish with past or present connections it has seemed appropriate to make some comment.
The more I have discussed these matters and thought and prayed about them the more I have come to see that the important thing is to express our sympathy and our sadness, to pray and to be available to listen with open ears and open hearts for those who have been affected.
Our sorrow relates to the fact of human frailty weakness and sin which corrupts the perpetrator and damages those wounded by the sin. Our contemporary world can hardly recognise this wounding of the spirit and corruption and/or seduction of innocence but concerns itself rather with crime (and its definition) and punishment. In both the instances referred to above pornography played a part, and we have a supposed ‘right of access' because it has no victims. But it does. It degrades and diminishes the dignity of those who willingly participate and is an extreme violation of the humanity of those who are unwillingly involved in its production, it degrades those who distribute it and those who use it. It diminishes our society because we tolerate it. We will not convince non-believers of this but let us be clear in our minds that that is the case.
Our sorrow is especially for the individuals who have been damaged by their experience. Sometimes it is more dramatic and more obvious than others but no-one escapes being hurt. And the more innocent the person, the more vile seems the crime and the damage done. The effects can last a lifetime and destroy gifts and potentials that otherwise might have contributed to the sum of happiness rather than diminish it. There are tragedies here.
Our prayers are firstly for an end to those crimes and for the healing of those who have been directly and indirectly wounded. We pray further that justice be done and be seen to be done on their behalf. Justice should not be out of vindictiveness but to protect society and to send a clear message that these things are intolerable. And true justice should aim to rehabilitate the offender.
We have eventually to find room in our hearts to pray for the offenders that they may know the gravity of what they have done, repent and reform and make restitution. And that they may one day find peace in their hearts under the mercy of God.
In the end we pray for ourselves and our community. No man is an island. Mark and I commit ourselves to being available for any who want to unburden themselves in relation to these matters.
In the Lord, Peter.
I was reflecting recently on an extraordinary feature of our lives which I have often taken for granted. This is the amazing capacity that we have to be moved by communal singing. I guess that the term ‘communal singing' reminds us of Danny Boy or Knees Up, Mother Brown and that can certainly be enjoyable. But what I have in mind is more disciplined than belting out a tune at the top of our lungs. It is more along the line of choir singing though not limited to that.
A recent film “As it is in Heaven”, made me aware of this and I began to pay more attention to our parish choirs. To be a member of a good choir, maybe any choir, you have to submerge your ego for the good of the whole. You cannot be a virtuoso whenever you feel like it, you have to follow the directions of the choir leader and be sensitive to those around you. The sense of cooperation and willingness to work with others in order to achieve an experience greater than what an individual can do is at the heart of a choir. It must be good training for the Christian life!
If you saw the recent TV series “The choir of Hard Knocks” then you would also have seen some of the healing power of the choir experience. Isolated and lonely individuals came together to cooperate and, while not without difficulties, submerge their problems and limitations in the task of making beautiful singing. And at the same time be valued and validated in a new way. That was a minor miracle and Jesus was certainly in the midst of that experience we were honoured to witness.
Our own Parish Choirs lead us in sung worship. They help us to pray in this glorious way. I am sure that there are times when it is truly burdensome to come out on a cold night to rehearsal. But they do it not only for themselves but also for us that we may have moments of sensing the closeness of God, that we may be led by them in praising God in voices loud and soft. I personally have a voice that is undisciplined and uncontrolled, sometimes in key, sometimes off, sometimes in tune and sometimes not. But I enjoy joining in with the choirs as long as their confidence can carry me. And I'm sure there are many like me.
I don't forget the musicians who accompany the choirs. They give of their gifts and talents to all of us and are an essential part of the whole prayer experience, occasionally gifting us with meditative solo or combined instrumental offerings. We are truly fortunate.
So we offer our sincere gratitude to our choirs and musicians. And if you feel that you would like to join one of the choirs then don't hesitate to make an approach because I am sure that they are such nice people that you will be welcomed.
In the Lord, Peter.
One of the commitments in the life of a priest or religious is to do an annual retreat. It is usually enjoyable, a break from routine, but the purpose of it is to step aside from ordinary life for a while, to take stock and to recharge the spiritual batteries. The week I was away at Yamba on the north coast of NSW was both a time of personal renewal and a pleasure. The weather was warmer than the ACT and the location on the Pacific Coast at the mouth of the Clarence River was great for walks on the beach, in the bush and along the breakwater. I wish everybody had the opportunity to do it regularly.
Retreat also means exactly what the word says: to back away from the battle or the
coalface and regroup. Not that I think that life is a battle; at least, not often. But we do get the patterns of behaviour in order to survive in our particular circumstances and we need to assess or reassess whether they are helpful patterns or not. For a priest such as myself, I need to look again at my relationship with God in Jesus and get out of any rut I may be in. I think I need to be doing this all the time in a quiet and gentle way. But a retreat is a concentrated time when the distractions of ordinary daily living can be put aside (even cooking and washing up!) and the fundamental things addressed. Sometimes it is a simple relaxing and affirming time spent with the Lord, sometimes it is a bit more dramatic.
We were led by a team of Christian Brothers on the Yamba retreat. It is the job of the directors to facilitate the process of addressing the issues which arise for the individual. They also create the atmosphere and provide expertise in their areas, in this case spirituality and psychology. And they lead exercises that allow each individual to go safely into their private room and encounter the living God there. But however helpful they cannot do the work for you! They can only indicate the direction and encourage you along it.
Normally we MSC would go to Douglas Park for a retreat. There are excellent spiritual directors there but I had a good reason to travel further afield and I'm glad I did. It was a time of deep grace for me, maybe even a kind of watershed. I know that some were praying for me and I am grateful for that. I can only recommend to everyone that if you get an opportunity to do a retreat then take it.
In the Lord, Peter.
When I lived in Darwin people would often say: “Just drop in anytime” and I would respond: “But I'm from Melbourne , I need an invitation!” I eventually learned to relax a bit though usually I would ring before dropping in just to make sure it wasn't an inconvenience….and to make sure that someone would be home.
It's not just Melburnians who like an invitation; many people do. To be accurate and to be truthful to the subject I am writing about, I have to say ‘some' rather than ‘many' because there are those who, by the grace of God, get their invitation direct from God rather than through the likes of you and me.
I am talking about adults coming into the Church.
There are those who after 10, 20 or 30 years married to a Catholic will suddenly decide that the time is ripe to become one themselves, sometimes to the happy surprise of family and friends. And there are those who will reach the decision through a process of reasoning while others will reach it for decidedly emotional reasons because of some crises in life that has profoundly affected them. The reasons people decide to become Catholics are many and varied.
There are others however who appreciate being invited to take a closer look. We can be shy about talking even with friends about such personal matters as our faith, even though it may be one of the most precious things in our life. There is an easy opportunity coming up however. We can invite people we know to an Enquiry Night for the RCIA program which is coming up soon. By ‘invite' I mean let someone you think who may have an interest know that it is on. It is Wednesday, August 15 th , the Feast of the Assumption, following the evening Mass and commencing at 7.45pm in the Parish Library.
RCIA is the program called The Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults. It covers all the questions that people naturally have and explains Catholic belief in an extensive series of talks, discussions and experiences leading up to full entry into the Church next Easter. The Enquiry Night though is not a commitment to the course but an explanation of what is involved in the programme. If you suspect that a friend, a neighbour or someone close to you might have an interest then just let them know that this is an easy occasion to find out more.
God really does work through you and me!
In the Lord, Peter.
I was checking old documents on my laptop recently and came across some notes made at Kalumburu in December of 2004. They concern a Christmas Mass I said, in fact on December 5th at the Gibb River School in the Kimberleys of Western Australia. This is a tiny isolated community that is visited infrequently by a priest.
I was there because the parish priest of Kalumburu is loaned each month a helicopter (and a pilot!) to visit stations and remote communities for pastoral purposes. The benefactor is a very generous man and his family who, among many interests, own a number of cattle properties in the area. During the four months I was in Kalumburu I saw a fair bit of this amazing area by helicopter as well as by light plane (sometimes piloted by the Bishop) and by road, with volunteers who took every opportunity to explore for hidden ravines, waterfalls and rock paintings. It was a marvellous time from that point of view.
It was my first visit to Gibb River as there is a variable programme of stations to visit for Mass on these pastoral helicopter flights. There was a white Australian family as well as aboriginal teachers and aides there and they had the Mass prepared on the verandah of the school so that any of the non-school people could attend along with the children if they wanted. They sang a few of their local language songs and it was simple and pleasant. Afterwards we gathered in the classroom for a talk about Christmas and a question and answer session. This is what I recorded.
“Who accompanied Mary to Bethlehem ?”
Answer: 1.“The donkey.” Answer: 2 “Moses”.
“How did people know that Jesus was God's son?”
Answer: “He looked like him”.
“Who did God first tell that his son was born?”
Answer: “The bishop”.
I was never quite sure if those children weren't taking the ‘mickey' out of me! They were enthusiastic and outgoing youngsters and for all the problems that remote communities face there is also a great deal of vivacity and goodness among them. While their faith might need a bit of fine tuning, they are, I think in their isolation and their relative innocence, very close to God's heart. Spare a prayer sometimes for these brothers and sisters of ours in the faith and maybe they will do the same for us.
In the Lord, Peter.
You may have heard that we are launching a Parish Book Club and that it will begin on the third Sunday of September at 3.00pm in the library. The concept received enthusiastic support from the Parish Pastoral Council at the August meeting. It will necessarily be experimental initially as we find our way to a format that will agree with the majority of those who support the idea.
The decision was made to look at novels rather than specifically religious books. The idea is to find the philosophy and theology that exist within the works and to discuss where it is coming from and how we appreciate, or don't, what the author is attempting. The presumption is that nothing human is foreign to God; that the incarnation affects every aspect of human experience whether people realise it or not. If this way of going about our discussions is helpful then we shall continue in that direction but we will remain open to other formats. There is certainly a place for a book club for specifically Catholic works of spirituality or scripture or whatever. At the moment we would like to try to be Catholic with secular works.
It would have been possible to hold a meeting of interested persons before actually choosing a book but I took some advice and we are going to jump right in. The novel I have chosen is quite recent and available virtually everywhere. It is
‘On Chesil Beach ' by Ian McEwan, a highly regarded UK author who has won numerous prizes. It is not a long novel and a hardback version is available for about $32 from specialty bookstores and just under $20 at the discounting department stores such as Big W. I purchased a number of copies at the latter price and a few are still available at the Office. Of course you don't have to own a copy for yourself but can borrow from a library or a friend.
Don't feel that you have to have an opinion about anything and everything. All you need is to have read the book with an open mind, to take a few notes of your questions and ideas about the novel and turn up at the appointed time. Coffee will be supplied.
And also we would like to keep the club an open one such as that anyone will be welcome to drop in at any or all meetings. We will need a core group of regular attendees but beyond that it is open house. And all will be at home.
In the Lord, Peter.
Recently (August 8) we celebrated the feast of St Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, a Carmelite nun who died in Auschwitz on that date in 1942. She was an extraordinary woman, a philosopher and a mystic, but the reason for her murder by the Nazis was because she was Jewish. She was born Edith Stein in Germany in 1891 and became a Catholic in 1922. She did not want to avoid the cross laid upon the Jewish people in the Holocaust. She is a Catholic saint, a martyr, a hero of our community of faith.
Reflecting on her life led me to think about our relationship with the Jews. In the Eucharist we call Abraham ‘our father in faith', the person to whom the one God first revealed himself and who promised to form a great nation of these nomads. The long history of the relationship between the people and God, recorded in many literary forms in the Torah and the Talmud, forms part of our salvation history too. We acknowledge that Jesus was a Jew as was Mary and Joseph, all the apostles, Paul and most of the early disciples. Salvation has come through the Jews and we venerate the people through whom God has chosen to give life and freedom to all.
It has always seemed very strange to me that there has been conflict at times in history between Christians and Jews. There are negative aspects of the Gospels that talk about the Jews doing this or doing that, but since everybody in the story is Jewish it cannot mean all Jews but only those who are in opposition to Jesus, particularly the establishment, those in power. As the early Christian community became estranged from the synagogue there developed an animosity between them. But Jesus had prayed from the Cross that those who put him there should be forgiven.
When I was young I was taught that Jesus died because of my sins and because the Roman authorities and many of the Jews of his time rejected him. We were not taught that contemporary Jews were bad in any way, in fact there was deep sympathy for those refugees in Melbourne in the fifties who were survivors of the concentration camps. I used to meet a number of people with the tattooed numbers on their arms in my after school job as the chemist's delivery boy. Further, we had Jewish neighbours who were kind to me. But the point of this is not to justify myself but to remind myself that there are refugees and migrants today who are in need of friendship and support as they establish themselves in their new home. They have often experienced terrible prejudice, trauma and great suffering. Our duty and our privilege is to open our lives to them in welcome; to do what we can to turn the stranger into a friend.
This weekend you have the pleasure of catching up with John Rate, one of our former Parish priests. I have the pleasure of being at Our Lady of the Sacred Heart Parish, Randwick and catching up with friends in Sydney . John and I have done a swap for a few days.
The ease with which this has happened makes me aware of how fortunate I am to be a religious priest. The MSCs are an extended community, the members of which belong to each other through a vowed common commitment and a common vision of faith. There is a kind of fullment of Jesus' promise that if we give up family for his sake we will be repaid a hundred fold. The family doesn't stop at the boundaries of the MSCs of course but extends into the parish community. And it happens at every place you live in so your ‘family' is continually expanding in size.
And it is something similar with the houses we live in; we are at home in a variety of places. Some are very simple and basic and others are very impressive but they are all made ‘home' by the community who inhabit them and the welcome that they provide. I experienced this last year when I worked in India for three months and Ireland for five. I was not a stranger anywhere when I was with MSCs. This is not a main motivation for becoming an MSC but it is a byproduct, like a bonus. There are a mumber of such things.
People, including us, sometimes wonder what the vow of poverty means in this day and age as we don't seem to go without anything. The first sense of the vow is that we do not own anything personally but have the use of the things we need for our work. It is a fine line. The car I use does not belong to me and yet I have it at my disposal all the time. In one sense I might as well own it. The essence of the vow is to be non-possessive. This is in relation to people as well as things and is also an aspect of the vow of celibacy.
The second aspect of poverty is that we vow to live simply, without extravagances or unnecessary things cluttering our lives. In our consumerist age that is a responsible way of being in the world and some people take it on without religious motivation. The religious dimension though is to rely on God's providence to have what is necessary to live. We also have to exercise prudence. Regretfully I don't think we give much witness in these matters these days, however sincere our motivations. Maybe the difficulty of that is meant to humble us. And take us back to our roots again. Keep us in your prayers!
In the Lord, Peter.
Something that all Christians, in fact all people who believe in God, have to be grateful for is the fact that they have someone to be grateful to! Imagine if there was only blind luck to be the recipient of your ‘thank you'.
Personally I think that winning lottery and the like is blind luck. I don't think it is of much concern or interest to God though, of course, we might very well feel grateful if we won. But it seems to me it is a different kind of gratitude that is important.
Sometimes it is good to take stock of our lives and to make a list of the things we are grateful for. We can begin with life in its basic sense. Our lives are pure grace, pure gift; we have no right to existence in itself. It is such a wonder, such an awe-inspiring fact that we are self-conscious beings on a planet that teems on every surface, in every nook and cranny, in every corner, at every height and every depth with a vast multitude of amazing forms of life. And because we know it we can be grateful for it.
Some people would point out that many human beings live in misery, that life for them is not a joyous thing. We cannot be complacent about pain and suffering, about injustice and poverty and we must work to change the systems that keep people from developing their human potentials. But one of the things which moved me very much in India last year was to observe on numerous occasions that the poorest of the poor are people who relate with each other in the very same way that you and I do; they tell stories, laugh and joke with their families and neighbours, they relax and play cards and they share their meals with each other. Their lives are restricted in a way that would cripple you or me but it is not unrelenting misery and they are living human lives for which I am sure they are grateful, at least at times.
The second thing to be grateful for is faith. It is pure grace, pure gift and we know that there are better people than us who don't have it. We can nurture this gift or neglect it and lose it but we can't create it. Faith, which in the end is a trusting relationship with God in Jesus, promises us the eyes of God to see the reality of our existence in all its pain and in all its glory and the heart of Jesus to love all that is. And we aren't there yet but it is grace too that gives us the hope that one day we will be. And it is grace also that nurtures the seed of the desire to say THANK YOU for all that is.
In the Lord, Peter.
While on retreat recently I was taught about a place in imagination which can be called the Sanctuary. It is a memory of a particular place at a particular time when you were truly at peace. It is deeply personal of course and different for everybody; no-one can tell you where this place is except yourself. It may not come easily to consciousness and you need to be patient in remembering. It may surprise you.
The point of this is to return there to that place when things are stressful and you need time out. You will find that it reduces tension, lowers your pulse rate and your blood pressure, drops the level of your brain waves and calms you. And you can do it practically anywhere at virtually any time, in fact whenever you do not need to concentrate closely. (Don't do it while you are driving or, as they say, in control of machinery!) Another factor is that it doesn't cost anything. But the most important thing for people of faith is that it can easily be a form of prayer.
Initially you need to relax in a comfortable position and slow your breathing while you peacefully comb your memory for a time and a place when you felt particularly at ease with life. It may be a beach at sunrise or a mountain top at sunset. Let yourself feel in imagination the whole situation. Re-experience the peacefulness and enjoy it. You can return to that place any time you want to and the route will be much more direct when you have discovered your own sanctuary. You can do it sitting in a bus, waiting in a queue or walking in the morning.
It is called the sanctuary because God is in that place and it is holy. When you are there you can receive that peacefulness again and you can be consciously aware of your relationship with God.
In the Lord, Peter.
The Parish Book Club got off to a good start last weekend with a pleasant and frank interchange of ideas and opinions. It struck me again how much more we can see when we share our thinking. Our ideas or questions stimulate each other to understand more deeply. And, in the case of an interesting and well-written novel, this sharing helps us to enter more deeply into the lives of the characters with compassion and empathy. And this hopefully can spill over into our everyday lives.
This may sound an idealistic view of novel reading but I often remember the advice of a dear friend who is a priest and a moral theologian. Years ago when we were both on the staff of the Pacific Regional Seminary, I expressed the view that I perhaps read too many novels. My friend told me not to worry and assured me that I might learn a great deal more about human nature through novels than I could through life. Well, I was happy to hear that of course and have continued to read at a great rate. It does have to be balanced of course and the danger avoided that imagination become a substitute for actually living. But it is certainly one of life's deep pleasures for me. And the experience of sharing as in the book club adds to it.
Sharing is such an important human activity yet one we can easily take for granted. Most people agree that food tastes better when we share it. So does prayer. We can of course, and we should at times, pray alone but there are times when our prayer should be communal, when we are in relationship with others, because that is the way we are made: social beings who are inter-dependent with each other. And that is the way we enter the Kingdom of God . Chapter 25 of Matthew's gospel, verses 31 to 46, convinces us of that. We also need to worship together as well as privately (in the bush, by the lake or anywhere we feel close to God) sometimes.
So don't be shy of sharing your thoughts whether they be of puzzlement or conviction! Our next choice is a less complex book (‘ The Sunday Philosophy Club' by Alexander McCall Smith) though equally well written in a friendly and readable way. You will be welcome on the 3rd Sunday of the month at 3.00pm in the Parish Library.
In the Lord, Peter.
In the Lord, Peter.
Recently I was giving a homily on a weekday when in the middle of it I was struck by a thought that was new to me, as though I was looking at something familiar in a fresh way. Which it was for me though I do not know if it is for you. Anyway I shared it with the people who were present and now I would like to share it with all of you. The gospel was that of Luke where Jesus asks his disciples: “Who do people say I am?” They give various replies and he asks: “And you, who do you say I am?” We are all of us asked this question and it is our answer that makes us Christians. Like Peter it is by God's grace that we can say that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God, Our Lord, Our Saviour and all the various ways we have of expressing our relationship with God in Jesus. As we mature our response becomes more and more our own and we may use fewer and fewer words to express an ever deeper reality. Words are important in communicating ideas but they are not that important in how we live our faith.
There is another question that Jesus asks, initially directed at Peter but also directed at each one of us. And that is “Do you love me?” And it is not asked just once but again and again. We cannot be facile in answering it, we cannot avoid the question and we must speak our truth.
So far so good. You have probably heard me say this much before. But what struck me mid-sentence the other morning is that this is not a question for the end times, at the pearly gates as it were, but a question I am being asked every day. Every time I meet a stranger, every time I meet an outcast, a person on the fringes of society, someone who is isolated or alienated or anyone of the people close to Jesus' heart I am being asked the question: “Do you love me?”
If Jesus asked me the question one-to-one I think I would have no hesitation in saying “Yes, Lord, of course I love you.” But when the same question is asked through the marginalized of society I realise that I cannot answer too quickly because there are many times I have failed to love those who are not dear to me. It is a sobering thought.
Well this does not depress me, nor should it depress you because the story isn't over yet and we trust that by God's grace one day we will be able to say: “Lord, you know I have tried to love you.”
In the Lord, Peter
In the Lord, Peter.
This weekend we celebrate the 100 th Anniversary of the death of Fr Jules Chevalier, the founder of the Missionari Sacritissimi Corke, the Missionaries of the Sacred Heart. We thank God for his life and the inspiration that led him to found the Congregation in France but which soon spread internationally.
Since I first came to know something about Chevalier and the Missionaries of the Sacred Heart, I have thought that there is something very Australian about the MSCs.
Until quite recently the Australian Province was the largest in the Society; it was, and still is, the largest clerical Congregation in Australia While Jules Chevalier was still alive his vision had found a welcome home among Australians though our origins here were almost accidental. We were initially a way-station for supplying the mission in Papua and New Guinea which Jules had accepted against advice. Eventually parishes were founded and Australians liked the new Congregation and joined. The Congregation took a gamble on training Australians in Australia and it paid off. It seems to me that this taking a gamble which is typically MSC, is another way of trusting and is an example of something dear to the Australian heart. We ‘give it a go' and trust in God; we don't stand on ceremony.
The charism of the MSCs is to preach, in word and action, the love of God manifest in the heart of Jesus. It is such a basic Christian message that every religious person preaches it in their own way. It was Jules' special insight to understand that many human ills and sicknesses in society flow from the fact that we do not believe that we are loved or, indeed, loveable and hence do not love each other. For him Jesus's heart, the Sacred Heart, which is the sign and symbol of God's love for us in human form, is the remedy for this sickness. It is also God's will that we should know, in the flesh as well as in the spirit the joy and the pain of loving and being loved. For vowed MSCs our way is the celibate way but it does not run away from all that is human.
It is also important for us to know that we, broken and imperfect as we are, are loved by God so that we may preach authentically to other people that they too are loved and valued in themselves. It is an awe-inspiring legacy that Jules Chevalier left us. We celebrate his life and his death with deep gratitude.
In the Lord, Peter.
Soon I will be heading off on a holiday. A number of people have asked if I am coming back. The answer is yes, I wouldn't go away without saying goodbye and thank you to such a great community as is at St John's . I leave on November 9th, spend the weekend in Jindabyne saying Mass there and at Thredbo and Dalgety, having a look at, and a walk on, Kosciuszko and then heading for Melbourne, Hamilton and Lorne. I will be back before December 7th, and will spend Christmas here with all those who haven't gone away for holidays.
This is an opportune time to let you know Michael's plans. Our parish priest is surely a Worker Priest in that he has expended considerable effort in reaching his aims and has completed three books of Scriptural Commentary (Genesis; Exodus, Leviticus and Numbers; Deuteronomy, Joshua and Judges) and started submitting them for Imprimatur and Nihil Obstat. In fact, Archbishop Mark has undertaken vetting the first book already. This is not the end of Michael's endeavour as he has also done a considerable amount of work on Isaiah. Seems like there might well be another book in embryo. He is pretty exhausted by all this and in need of a decent break. He is returning to Australia on November 22nd and will do a retreat and spend some time catching up with his family, especially a sister in Perth who is unwell. He will take up the reins again on January 15th. That is the date I will leave for Hamilton .
Michael is looking forward to returning to serving you all again in this parish. For my part I will miss the life and work here. Exactly what I will miss and why, I will leave for a column later. But miss you I will . Usually we MSC don't move on after only one year but that was the arrangement before I came and I didn't expect to make too many attachments or put down any roots. But attachments happen anyway and while roots require time, connections can be almost instantaneous. I feel a lot of connections with you, the parish, the church. It is very affirming.
Next year I have another one year commitment which I made some time ago. When that is over I will hopefully be placed in a parish somewhere. I have come at this late stage in my life to love ministering to such a community as this one. Thank you.
You have also ministered to me.
In the Lord, Peter
Someone phoned on Friday morning about 8.00am and said; “I'm a friendly neighbour and I was just walking near your church. Do you know that the doors are open though there are no cars in the car park?” “Thanks for the call,” I said, “but, yes, we do leave them open and there has been an early Mass today so they've been open since before seven.”
I mentioned the call to Mark and we discussed how fortunate we are in Kippax to be able to make the church so accessible. In many places now it isn't possible and something has been lost when you can't just go into a church when you feel like it. Of course, we don't know for how long it will last but we will keep the ease of access for as long as possible.
In fact it is rare for there to be no cars at all in the car park. People often do “drop in for a visit” and to spend a bit of time in prayer and/or contemplation. That is one of the purposes of the church building. It does not simply exist to accommodate us for our Sunday liturgies but as a place of prayer at any time, an oasis in busy lives and a sanctuary in times of stress.
It is true that many places can provide that atmosphere of peace and quiet. Perhaps not ‘many' but there are certainly other places that are conducive to prayer: lakeside slopes; gardens; parts of the bush and groves of tre es practically anywhere. There are even some buildings not specifically churches, synagogues, temples or mosques which can promote the ability to contemplate and reflect. When we find such a place we treasure it.
For all that, that is good, and it is, such places do not have the distinguishing fact of a Catholic church, the presence of the Blessed Sacrament. That is not to say that God is not present in those places. God is everywhere and we can always be available to be aware of the presence of God. But the Blessed Sacrament is a different kind of presence of God, a material presence unbound by time or circumstance, an expression of the faith of the ages available to the eyes of the soul and humblest of hearts. In the presence of the Blessed Sacrament we become aware of God's love for us as we are, that non-judgmental and unconditional love that heals and invites us into fullness of life now and forever.
This ‘presence' is not limited to where we can see the sanctuary lamp burning. It extends beyond the walls of the church building into the whole world. It is we who cannot bear it and must limit it to a space enclosed by bricks and mortar. But we can visit. And be welcomed.
In the Lord, Peter
In 1975 I was working in Kasama in Northern Zambia as secretary to Archbishop Elias Mutale. I had worked as an architect the previous year in Lusaka the Capital and had shared a house with a married couple, Byron an Englishman and his wife Beverly who was an American. Byron was also an architect working for the same firm that employed me. There was another American, Ilene, with us for part of that year and we all became good friends. We are still friends and have met up a number of times over the years. By a quirk of fate they are all Jewish and, at least for Byron and Bev, I was the first ‘goy ‘, non-Jew, they had ever had as a friend.
We shared a number of interesting times, and in that first year went away on holidays together to Game Parks and also to Victoria Falls where there were architectural jobs under way. The following year Ilene went back to the States, I moved to Kasama and Byron and Beverly moved to Kitwe in the Copperbelt of Zambia. About mid-year Byron and Beverly came to Kasama for a holiday. The Archbishop was away at the time and they stayed with me at the Archbishop's House by arrangement. I took a week off and we went to one of the northern Game Parks and to Lake Victoria which is the site of Zambia 's only port. We also took a number of day trips and one of these was to the Mission headquarters located, if my memory serves me at Chilibula, about 50 miles from Kasama on, in those days needless to say, a dirt road. This is the original White Fathers settlement in this part of Africa and is an historic and fascinating settlement.
On the way back in Byron's car (I had a motorbike at the time, OK for two but not for three) we were waved down by an African fellow standing next to a large pick-up truck by the side of the road. He was a travelling Seventh Day Adventist pastor and he had run out of petrol. Byron is one of those well prepared characters who never travelled in Africa without spare canisters of fuel. He was able to give the fellow a canister worth, about four gallons. The pastor was overcome with this generosity and said once, twice and eventually six times, “you are real Christians!” We gave each other wry smiles. I suggested that I should tell him, “No, they are real Jews!” but they said to let it go, it would only be confusing for him.
Archbishop Mutale was a good friend and came to Melbourne to ordain me in January of 1981. In that first week we came to Canberra for a day or so, staying at Kambah with the Gregans, friends of the Archbishop from years before.
Elias Mutale died in a car accident in Lusaka in about 1989. Ilene lives in Connecticut and we last met in London in 2003. Beverly and Byron live in Norwich . They came over to Ireland last year and we spent five days touring together. A bond was formed across boundaries in those Zambian days and it has lasted over the years. It is a good feeling.
In the Lord, Peter
Following Ordination in 1981 my first posting was teaching at the Minor Seminary at Ulapia near Rabaul in the East New Britain Province of Papua New Guinea. After four years I asked if I could have some experience of parish work so that I would have an idea of what the seminarians would be going to. I was posted to Budoya on Fergusson Island in the Milne Bay Province .
Milne Bay Province was where I had first encountered the MSCs when I was an AVA at Hagita, the Catholic High School in Milne Bay itself in 1970 and 1971. It is one of the most glorious locations on earth, the archetypal tropical paradise with clear skies, blue seas, palm trees fringing golden sands close to reefs where amazingly patterned fish dart in and out of multi-hued coral….of course it's not always like that! (Also, there's the humidity. And the mosquitoes. And the snakes.) Still, there were numerous moments of bliss travelling on a small boat between the islands of the Coral Sea at sunrise or sunset or snorkelling with villagers on the reefs or saying Mass at a bush chapel on the edge of the jungle.
I did have trouble learning the language. I would go walking to meet people and try to practise speaking. People would ask when they met me: “Where are you going?” And I would respond: “Ya lopili dedanda!” Which is all I can remember of the Gosyagu language and which means” “I'm just walking about!”
After 6 months at Budoya I got sick and couldn't seem to get better. I went by speed boat to Esa Alaa on nearby Normanby Island and then by light plane into the provincial capital Alotau where there was a hospital. I never saw Budoya again.
An Indian doctor in Alotau discovered a mass in the abdomen but they didn't have the facilities to diagnose it so I was sent to Port Moresby . The first stop was at the Ante Natal Clinic where an English volunteer obstetrician decided that it might be an aortic embolism. The doctors then didn't want to biopsy anything on the grounds that if it was an aortic embolism it could burst under anaesthetic. So I was sent to Melbourne where eventually it was diagnosed as Non-Hodkins Lymphoma. That's another story and I'll tell some of it next week but for the moment the lesson I learnt through this experience was that I wasn't in control of my own destiny. And it is true for all of us. We cannot predict the cards we are dealt. We can only play with what we are given. May we all enjoy the game.
In the Lord, Peter
In 1985 I was diagnosed with non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. I had a year of tablet chemotherapy and it went into remission within 6 months. I had been transferred from Papua New Guinea to Fiji in part because I had lost any resistance to malaria and there wasn't any malaria in Fiji. I worked at the Pacific Regional Seminary with the formation of the MSC
Students and did some part time lecturing in the seminary.
The prognosis for the particular type of lymphoma I had was 5-7 years survival time. I didn't realise at first that the survival rate was a bell curve; ¼ died within the first five years after diagnosis, ½ died in the next two years and the remainder went on after that for varying periods of time. However long I had I wanted to be emotionally and spiritually ready for it to come out of remission. Thinking and praying about death formed a larger part of my life than it would have done in ordinary circumstances, especially as the five year boundary got closer. In this period I was a director on a retreat for seminarians that was held at the Catholic Ashram in Fiji run by Indian priests. There was an amount of free time and I chanced on a hint of Anthony De Mello's. It said, as a suggestion for meditation, “What is the last thing you want to see with your eyes before you close them in death?” I did a meditation on this topic and had a very strong awareness that the last thing I want to see before I die are the eyes of someone looking at me with love. This was not romantic love but an affirming, valuing gaze that held no fear and did not flinch.
I repeated this imaginative meditation a number of times over the following months and there were several further dimensions to it. The first was, fairly quickly, a realisation that I had no fear of death; I would open my eyes in the next life to see Jesus looking at me with those same eyes. Secondly, I was asked to look at others, especially the dying, with those same eyes. And thirdly, and connected to both the above, there was an invitation to use my situation of not-knowing how long I had to live as an instrument of ministry. These were not the only reasons why I went into HIV/AIDS Ministry but they were the main factors., In those days an AIDS diagnosis was usually a death sentence and I walked part of the final journey with many extraordinary people all of whom I recommended to God.
The Lord has given me many more years than I expected and the time I spent in that ministry gave me many friends in heaven.
I am a fortunate man.
In the Lord, Peter.
In 1990 I lived for four months at Damian Ministries , a community of HIV positive men in Washington , DC . I was training for AIDS Ministry in Australia . I had done a 36 day Ignatian Retreat with the Jesuits at Los Altos in California , a 3 month CPE (Clinical Pastoral Education) unit at St Mary's Hospital in San Francisco and now was learning on the job.
Damian Ministries was founded by a man named Louis Tesconi. He was a lawyer who lived in the fast lane…in a Porsche…on the road between Houston and New York ….but decided that his life was empty, gave it all up, returned to his childhood faith and entered the Carmelites. Six months later he was diagnosed with HIV and was asked to leave. He entered a period of depression and also anger at the Church. He was challenged by a bishop who told him that he was part of the church and he should do something. And if he did, the bishop would support him.
Damian Ministries was named after Damian of Molokai who began a sermon with the words, “We lepers….” It was a group of HIV positive men, mainly gay, who lived a semi-structured religious life (Eucharist and Office daily) and engaged in ministry to other HIV positive persons. There were a few uninfected people in the communities but the large majority had AIDS and were vulnerable to infections. In those days an AIDS diagnosis was a death sentence, it was only a matter of how long and whether the current infection could be controlled or cured and a period of health enjoyed until the next opportunistic infection cam along. But it was a one way street then.
They were an inspiring group and I came to love them. Each day they relied on God for the strength to do the work they had taken on. This included spirituality groups and retreats, food bank and distribution, counselling and support, visiting the sick at home and in hospital and in jail. It also lobbied for better treatments and for social change. It sounds rather daunting but they were usually a cheerful lot very funny and very gay. The communal dinners that we took turns in cooking every evening were often hilarious even when soup was all we had. I treasure many memories of those days.
There were several other houses, one in Chicago and one in New York , but Washington was the ‘mother' house and Lou lived there until he died. We became good friends. I learnt there a lesson about trusting in God that I couldn't have learnt any other way. I was blessed to be accepted by them.
In the Lord, Peter
We have no column this week.
Fr Peter is home. His brother Robert has returned with him for a few days to see the sights of Canberra . We welcome Robert.My recent holiday began in Jindabyne and I stayed a few days in the Snowy before heading for Melbourne. I went from there to Hamilton, then to Warnambool and finally to Lorne (where I picked up my brother Robert) and back here. I had taken most of my gear to Hamilton being under the impression that I was being posted back there next year. On the return journey, somewhere between Bendigo and Violet Town, I had a call from the Provincial: Would I be willing to go to Hobart, to the parish of Moonah instead?
I have some (mainly disreputable) family roots in Tasmania and have been quite interested to live there for a while. It is a considerably smaller parish than Kippax and of course only one priest. So I won't be the Acting PP but the PP next year.
The current Parish Priest of St Therese of Lisieux at Moonah is Fr Ted McCormack who many of you will know from his time here at St John's. The changeover is a bit more complicated that normal because of organizing and transporting my gear from Hamilton across Bass Strait to Hobart. For this reason I will be leaving a bit earlier than anticipated and in fact before Fr Michael gets back. We have spent some time together recently and have in fact done a handover already as Michael was aware of my situation. The last weekend I will be in the parish is almost certainly January 5/6.
Since there is only one more Compact before that date I will use my space next week for a reflection on my time here. I'm sure you will realize that it has been an important and special time for me. One aspect of St John's I would however like to refer to now.
Coming back after nearly 4 weeks away has given me fresh insights into this faith community. It is blessed in many ways. The thing that has struck me again is the diversity of our family; young and old and all stages in between; people from many different ethnic backgrounds and racial origins; people of varying economic and intellectual status; every personality type under the sun…we are a family united by something that transcends all these obvious differences between human beings and makes them pale into insignificance. Of course what unites us is not ‘something' but ‘someone'; it is Jesus and our shared faith in him. It is a hint of the Kingdom of God, that place of Justice and Peace where the rule of Love is the Law.
It really is something to celebrate.
In the Lord, Peter
I wish you every grace and blessing of this Holy Season. I know that is easily said and you can read something like it on every Christmas Card but I want to say it quite seriously. May you experience awe and wonder at the birth of God among us as one of us and may that wonder warm your heart to receive the poor and the vulnerable into your life. It seems to me that our life project is to experience the love of God who wills us into life and to respond to God's love with that love which is individual to each of us. Reflecting on the Christmas story surely encourages us to do that.
I also want to thank you. This is my last column in Compact, at least for the foreseeable future, and I have been thinking about all the goodness that I have experienced in the parish. My first vote of thanks is to Mark; he has provided another more youthful dimension to the parish while using his gifts for the good of the whole. He relieved me of the responsibility of the schools and that allowed me to be available considerably more than would have been possible otherwise. We are very different characters but are true brothers in the Lord and in the MSCs. We have had some great times together and shared very similar spiritualities. Next are Marian, Maureen, Sharon, Pauline and Judy who all give of themselves far beyond the call of duty. They are the face of the parish to the callers and provide a welcome to all. They do much more than that of course and I am truly grateful for their work.
Then there are the ladies who clean the presbytery every second weekend. That is a real help and the Lord only knows what it would be like without them. And those who do maintenance around the church and presbytery and keep the gardens neat, those who do the flowers each week and those who do the altar linen, the collection counters, the church cleaners and those who prepare liturgies, those who sing and play for our worship, the Acolytes, the Servers, the Special Ministers and the Readers, the Librarians and those who run the book stall. Then there are the teams that reach out, the Refugee Resettlement Committee, Caring Connections, the members of Family Groups and of Neighbourhood Groups, the Baptismal Preparation teams, those of Catholics Returning Home and of RCIA, the Youth Groups, Coffee Club, Book Club, Social Justice, CWL, Over 45's, Mums and Bubs, School of Religion and Catechists, members of the Finance Committee and the Parish Pastoral Council. There are the St Vincent de Paul Society members and in a special relationship to the parish are the prayer groups, the Charismatic Prayer Group, the Meditation Group, the Marian Cenacle and those who pray regularly before the Blessed Sacrament. There are so many involved people but that is not the end of it because my thanks go also to everyone else who worships here at St John the Apostle.
You are an extraordinary community but we all need to be reminded sometimes that we do not exist for ourselves; we are given these gifts to use for others. We can never be complacent and we must always welcome the stranger who might disturb us or shift our point of view. But that too is a gift from God. And you truly have been that for me.
With love, in the Lord, Peter.