Practice makes perfect

In the coming days, we will celebrate the Triduum of Easter. Once the day dawns tomorrow, all the preparation will be finished (we hope) and all that will remain will be making it happen. Actually there is still work to be done, questions to be asked and answered, responsibilities to be delegated and roles to be defined, but in the end, the celebrations will all have a beauty which will speak to hearts and minds alike.

This evening, there were two groups here to prepare for these coming days.

Children will lead the liturgy on Good Friday morning. A group of them were here tonight to practice, to arrange their roles and to sort out the numerous details of making a liturgy like this come alive. It's always a learning experience to work on these preparations (both for children and for adults). By the time the practice was complete, some major decisions had been made and some of the plans had been changed. Still, when the time comes, it will be a great opportunity for children to lead adults as they direct the telling of the story of the first Good Friday.

For the past year or so, there have been a number of individuals asking questions about our faith and learning about our Church. Tonight, the majority of them were here for the last gathering before the beginning of the Easter Triduum. In a session that looked more like an elementary school show and tell, these adults were invited to examine up close some of the objects, containers and other tangible pieces that are used on a regular basis for the celebration of liturgies. This is a rare opportunity indeed, especially considering the fact that most of those who come to pray here never do get the chance to see these things up close, much less to ask questions about their usage.

Tomorrow evening, some of these adults will partake in the traditional liturgical gesture of washing feet. They have all been invited to partake in the liturgies this weekend, so that they may better appreciate the power of these most beautiful and poignant gatherings.

For the children

Easter, like Christmas is all about children. This is the time for teaching our children about the significance of the most important holiday in the liturgical calendar. It's also a time to see the world through their eyes: to gaze in wonder at nature as it awakens from winter, to rejoice in the simple moments that only pass our way once.

This morning, I made a quick stop at the local elementary school. The children were out in the schoolyard as I pulled up, completing their morning recess break. As I made my way through the halls, more and more of the children who were coming back into the school greeted me warmly and happily. Only after I was almost all the way to the office did they begin to pay attention to the load that was being carried in my arms. True, they will not get to share in the spoils of this treasure until tomorrow, but nonetheless, all it takes to keep the attention of children is a box of chocolate, and since there were three boxes (of mini eggs), I guess I succeeded in capturing at least some of their hearts.

Confided to the care of the principal and staff, these treasures will be shared with the students prior to their departure tomorrow. In keeping with the wisdom I've managed to acquire, I suggested that they distribute the candy just prior to dismissal, thus not having to deal with the pent up energy that comes from consuming excess amounts of sugar. Was I right?

Passing over

Tonight marks the second night of Passover, the Jewish festival of freedom. It is customary to hold a seder meal (at least one) during this week, and the prescriptions call for a big feast that is customarily shared between friends.

Tonight, for the second year in a row, I was invited to participate in a seder meal at the home of some friends. Each year, different people grace their table, and they take great joy and pride in sharing these sacred traditions with all those who are willing to join in their celebration. For our part, we rejoice with them, and are most grateful for their gift of hospitality.

Sharing the traditions of faith, especially those which centre around food and story, are extremely important for they remind us that ours is also part of this story that is told and retold each year. Partaking in the seder also allows us to celebrate something that is common among us, and it affords us an opportunity for friendly conversation about all manner of current events and topics of interest.

These kinds of traditions are extremely important not only for the sake of perpetuating faith and collective memory, but simply for the fact that they allow us to share our joys and struggles with others, to recognize our similarities and even to begin resolving some of our differences. Passover is about celebrating freedom, and freedom begins when we recognize the things that bind us, and then work (together when possible) to loosen the bonds that enslave us, and to strengthen the bonds of friendship that keep us together.

Small gestures of hospitality can speak volumes.

Laying the foundations

What do we do when we identify a problem that has the potential to be truly devastating? Answer: we call in the troups.

In this case, the 'troups' were members of various organizations in the community, invited to a brainstorming session today in an effort to begin the process of developing a drug strategy for the city. Drugs are a real challenge because they have the potential to do great harm to our children, to adults, to relationships, to all parts of society, if we don't keep them in check.

The challenge is to keep as many people involved in the process right from the beginning and to establish creative strategies which allow us all to be part of the solution; to do otherwise is to admit that we are falling prey to something we cannot control.

It was absolutely wonderful to see members of various police forces combining their talents with various health professionals, teachers, and even some of the local clergy in a united effort to do something constructive to address this challenge. We are still far away from the solution, but this first step has been a momentous one, and it should be lauded even as we continue to blaze a trail that will no doubt show this community to be deeply concerned about our citizens, their well-being and our overall health.

A bit of fun

Every day, it does a body good to find a reason to celebrate ... even just for a little while.

Today, well this afternoon, after all the other obligations were complete, I was invited to attend a crescia party. 'Now what,' you may ask, 'is crescia'. Answer: an Italian bread which is made with various types of cheese and just the right touch of black pepper. It's wonderful stuff whether it's served fresh with butter or toasted and lathered in some kind of colesterol laden yumminess.

Some friends had invited me to attend one of the local clubs where this simple festival was being held. It was the first of its kind, a competition of sorts. Various people had been invited to make their secret family recipes for this beloved bread, and to bring it along to the club where there would be a competition, complete with judges and prizes.

Chefs and neophytes alike brought their breads and added them to the table. Each specimen was anonymously set out on the table, with naught save an incongruous numbered tag to identify it. The other half of the numbered tag (with another copy of the number) was given to the owner to hold as collateral until the judging was complete. In the meanwhile, there was a variety of meats and buns to be enjoyed, along with a selection of baking and cups of coffee. Other beverages (to add to the authenticity of the moment) were also available.

It all lasted only a couple of hours, and in the end there was a whole lot of fun, visiting with friends and long-absent acquaintences. Once the prizes had been awarded and the various crescia were purchased (for of course they were all up for auction), then it was off in the sunset with all of those gathered ... only until the next opportunity should present itself for a little festa.

Hidden blessings

One never knows when we get up in the morning who will come into our lives, and what blessings will become apparent.

Today was one of those days. I had made arrangements with a friend, who I haven't seen for a while, to have lunch. As it turns out, the place where we were to meet was closed, so we ended up in another location, but the place of our encounter was not as important as the opportunity to get caught up on life experiences, joys and struggles ... the stuff that long-lost friends tend to chat about.

In some cases, these kinds of conversations can go on for hours, and they're not confined to any given location. Even as we move from one physical place to another, the recounting can and often does continue, and this was no exception. By the end of the day, we had made a few extra stops on the journey: to deliver some small tokens which will prove to be anything but small to those who will benefit from them, and to pick up some treats for the children who will come to celebrate Easter with us in just a few days' time.

Opportunities to visit with friends can sometimes be rare indeed. They should always be cherished as valued occasions to share a laugh or two, to unburden a heavy heart or to simply walk together along the road of life.

Love in action

Today's reflection was not really a reflection (in the normal sense of the word). Rather is was kind of an overview of the week to come. Now, I've heard of 'the week in review' referring to a period that has already passed, but when it comes to looking forward, we usually call that advertising.

Be that as it may, the truth is that our hearts can be and often are fickle. Thank goodness when we look to the promises made by God, there's absolutely no room for unpredictable change of heart like this, except if it's to move from obstinacy to mercy. This week invites us to look again at our own hardness of heart, and better yet, to allow our hearts to be changed by the one who has the power to change them into 'hearts of flesh'.

There is time this week for deep love, for friendship that pours out in generosity, for betrayal, for woundedness, for a trial or two, for a long walk with a heavy load, for the irony of crucifixion for the carpenter, and for a miracle beyond all miracles that leaves some befuddled while others rejoice. Find some time. You won't regret it.

Playing solo, or singing together

A number of years ago, His Excellency, Kenneth Untner, then Bishop of Saginaw (Michigan) was invited to preach a retreat with the priests of our diocese. He struck us as a bit of a rebel, but that's not always a bad thing.

Bishop Untner was a musician who enjoyed playing piano, so he moved over to a keyboard that had been set in place, and began playing a well-known hymn. He also sang it on his own. After a verse or two, he stopped and looked at us. Then he said, now I want you to join me; you know the words ... and of couse we all added our own voices. At the end of that exercise, he looked at us and said, 'now the first part of this presentation was good, but the second part was better'. After no more than five minutes among us, he had already captured our interest ... and he left the room (lecture finished).

Life can be like that. We often try to do lots of things on our own, but there are some things that are just better when we do them together with others. More hands make lighter tasks, more voices provide different ideas, more ideas enrich the possibiities, and more possibilities just make life more fun.

Collaboration is not always easy, but it's definitely worth the effort. Work, life, lots of things are just better when we do them together.

Keep your eyes on the prize

Today's scripture passages (especially the gospel) present us with one of those intriguing moments when Jesus was confronted with people who challenged the authority of his teaching. In today's climate, perhaps there are a few if not many who would prefer to be able to do this at least from time to time.

Have you ever had one of those days where everything seems to be happening at the same time? Today is turning out to be one of those days. There are at least four or five visitors who have arrived, or who are coming today, each of which is finishing a project that has been planned for a period of either weeks or months. In addition, Friday mornings tend to be filled with an array of visitors and all manner of other happenings.

In the midst of all this activity, the words of scripture invite us to be attentive to a different kind of movement: the ways in which Jesus invites each of us to be stretched and pulled so that we can discover or hear afresh His invitation to love, to forgive and to grow. That's what Lent is all about. The problem is that there is often too much 'noise' in our world, either because of an overabundance of activity or because of all the distractions that tend to characterise our daily existence.

The trick is to develop a habit of listening intently to the inner voice of the soul. This is the place where interesting conversations take place. This is the place where we can 'check in' every now and then to see how we're doing. This is the place that will tell us when things are not right, and this is the place that will tell us when everythings just fine.

Before it's too late

Have you ever faced a situation where people warn you not to wait for the last minute before acting, before doing something? Children doing homework can often fall victim to this kind of warning. Adults facing deadlines for assignments of various kinds can also know this kind of pressure, and the temptation to sloth can be devastating if we give into it, believing that we always have 'enough time' to finish the task at hand.

The Lenten period is trotting right along. We have already completed four weeks, and are almost at the mid-point of the fifth week. Before long we will find ourselves at the end of this week (Palm Sunday is this coming Sunday) and then it's Holy Week.

At the beginning of Lent, we set ourselves any number of tasks, meant to help us face the demons that can hold us prisoner. This is the time to free ourselves from this slavery and to change ourselves in some way so that we can be more truthful about ourselves, honest about the journey we are walking and compassionate toward others who are also en route. Now is the time to make a difference, but if we procrastinate for much longer, this grace period will be gone. Now, perhaps we will have another occasion in the future, but the point is that we should never waste any of these chances.

In biblical times, it took a battle with serpents to wake the people up to their sloth. I wonder what it will take for us to come to our senses. Facing the obstinacy of the Pharisees, Jesus told them that their time was almost up, and that once he was gone, they may very well die in their sin. Let's not wait for such dire words to be spoken about us before we're willing to change our hearts, to amend our ways, and to see others with eyes of compassion and love.

Light in darkness

For the very first time in history, the Holy Father has written a letter (to the Catholics of Ireland) about the aleged cases of sexual abuse of minors by priests in that country.

Ever since the letter was published just a few days ago, there has been a flurry of activity, including calls for His Holiness to accept blame for wrongdoings, however to do so would be to open the legal doors to the possibility that the Vatican could be sued for wrongdoing in Ireland, in Canada and in other countries where similar alegations have been leveled.

The letter is a pastoral response to the suffering of those who have been harmed, and a call for steps to be taken to put things right. This is only one part of the work that must be done in order for the process of healing to be successful. What's clear though is that those whose acusations are found to be truthful must be cared for, while those who see this as an opportunity for financial (or other) gain at the expense of the Church should think twice before advancing their cause.

Wrongful acusations have never gotten anyone anywhere, but this could very well be the time (in fact it appears to be so) for truth to come to light and for the light of truth to set free those who have been imprisoned with such ghastly secrets for so long.

Getting things right

There are only two weeks left before we celebrate the Easter Triduum. These three days (Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Easter Saturday) and of course Easter Sunday and the fifty days that follow, are filled with all kinds of significant moments and observations. Each of them merit their own special attention.

This year, there are three people from this parish, along with three more from a neighboring parish who are going to be received into full communion with the Church. All six of them have been baptised, some in other Christian faiths and some as Roman Catholics, but all six of them need to complete the Sacraments of Initiation (baptism, confirmation, eucharist). In addition, there is a seventh person who has never been baptised, but who has been faithfully exploring various aspects of our faith and is now ready to accept baptism (and the other sacraments mentioned above as well).

A few weeks ago, we did a class with these seven on the Catholic Church's teachings about Marriage. One of these teachings is that all Roman Catholics must be married in the Roman Catholic church, before a priest or a deacon in order for their marriage to be valid and licit. As it turns out, there are two of the people in our little group who are civilly married to Roman Catholics, but who have never had their marriages convalidated (blessed or recognized by the Church).

The problem is that if the Church were to continue with a baptism or a reception into full communion without first convalidating their marriage, they would end up in an irregular situation. How can we recognize the sacraments of initiation they celebrate without recognizing a marriage (which they have been living for all intents and purposes for a number of years now). The rush is on. We have a little less than two weeks now to put these situations right. It's not impossible to do, but it does mean that we have to work fast.

When all is said and done, perhaps on the outside, there won't be too much that changes for them. People who know them will see no change in their living situations, but sacramentally there will be an enormous difference because now the Church recognizes the union that they share.

These can be painful realizations for some, but the good thing is that we can put things right, and we can do this rather swiftly if we need to. The Church is not out to condemn, but to find ways to get things right. When someone comes to us and inquires about being part of our Church, these decisons should never be made lightly; we too take things seriously.

Encounter the sacred

When I was a teenager, having completed part of my high school studies, I was invited by some friends to partake in a weekend retreat called Youth Encounter. Back in the early 1980s, Youth Encounter, along with Cursillo (a similar retreat for adults) and Marriage Encounter (yes, you guessed it, for married couples who wished to deepen the spiritual dimension of their marriage), were very strongly rooted in Sault Ste. Marie (and, I believe in some other parts of this diocese as well).

It wasn't all teenagers who had even heard of Youth Encounter, nor did all of them come to participate, but for those who did, the weekend experience had the potential at least to be a life changing one. At a time when we craved spending time with peers (many times even more than we craved spending time with parents and families) Encounter gave us a structured weekend which was directed by adults but administered by peers. Perhaps most remarkable about this experience was the fact that our friends, those who were the jocks at school, the popular ones at all the parties, dared to share the deepest secrets of their lives with us. Teenagers speak most powerfully to teenagers when they share their own challenges and fears, and because Encounter provided an opportunity for us to discover the sacred at work within ourselves, it had the power to change our perspectives, to help us appreciate the power of faith, to help us bond with friends.
People who have had an experience of faith, whether through Encounter or some other life changing experience, are not the same after as before. We see such changes from time to time in the people who come to us and ask to partake in the RCIA even today. At the beginning of the process, they are shy, reserved and filled with questions. At the end of the process, they may still be filled with questions. They may even remain shy and reserved, but they often understand the Catholic faith better than most cradle Catholics do. In some cases, they become more committed and fervent Catholics than their sponsors ever were. They too have encountered the sacred, and this encounter has changed their lives.

The story of the raising of Lazarus which we heard today is perhaps one of the best known bible stories. We've heard it before. We encounter it each year. It's even found its way into popular conversation. If I should happen to visit with a particular friend after a long absence, or if I should happen to call after not having spoken with her for quite some time, I may very well be greeted with the words, 'and the dead shall arise and appear to many', reminiscent of the Lazarus story.

Why did Jesus take this opportunity to raise Lazarus from the dead? Was it because he wanted to demonstrate his divine power? Perhaps so, but I think there is more to this story than first meets the eye. Jesus never used his divine power to show off. Rather he used it to demonstrate his compassion for others. In this case, here was an opportunity to be close to Martha and Mary in their moment of anguish and sorrow. Here was a chance to call the people of the village to a new level of faith. Here was an occasion for them to encounter the sacred, and for this encounter to be a life changing experience for them.

The people of Bethany had also heard the words of the prophet Ezekiel, but did they truly believe that God could call out from beyond the grave and restore life? ... and then there was Paul, the apostle who had to be knocked off his horse in order to understand that Jesus and his disciples were actually up to something good. In his case too, this was a life-altering moment, an encounter with the sacred that changed him forever.

The gathered crowd must have looked on with utter disbelief as Lazarus came forth from the tomb. Did he appear to them like a mummy in some well scripted film? Did they run toward him in amazement or did they run away from him in fear? Did they gather around Martha and Mary to rejoice with them or did they look to Jesus in wide-eyed wonder, somehow holding him in a sense of awe and disbelief? Did this encounter with the sacred call them to a new level of faith or did it scare them back into their homes to ponder what life is really about? Did anyone who witnessed that stone as it rolled away from the entrance to the tomb remain unphased by the events of that day?

What about us? What will it take for us to believe that Jesus has the power to raise the dead to life? What will it take for us to have a personal encounter with the sacred? Will we recognize it when it happens? Will our lives be changed or will we be like so many teenagers back in the 1980s, like so many adults and teenagers today who fail to heed an invitation to even perceive much less acknowledge an encounter with the sacred when it becons?

How does one relax?

Leisure is different for everyone. Some people go to the gym, others are into sports; some adore their workshops, while others have any assortment of hobbies.

As it happened, today began long before the sun cast its first rays on the rocks of the Pre-cambrian shield and revealed the grass (yes grass) that is showing, thanks to the severe lack of snow this year in these parts. I had to finish preparing for the weekend obligations so that I could find some time to play today.

In this case, play means spending time in the kitchen, and the recipe in question today was Zeppole, the famous donuts that are made to celebrate Saint Joseph's feastday. In actual fact, I should have been making them (or eating them) yesterday, but since this was my introduction to this particular custom, and given the fact that we're in the dead of Lent, I figured that another day's wait wouldn't hurt. Besides, this way my confreres and I could enjoy them after having celebrated the first vespers of Sunday, which makes it quite 'legal' for such frivolity to take place.

According to the recipe, the pastry is supposed to be shaped (using a piping bag) but since we couldn't find all the parts to the pastry bag that resides in this house, we had to improvise. Result ... they turned out looking suspiciously like cream puffs waiting to be stuffed. The cream filling on the other hand was an absolutely scrumptious vanilla custard (made from scratch of course). According to the recipe, these little confections can be decorated with extra cream and cherries, but considering this is the first time, it's not too bad if I do say so myself.

Respite from the routine

Today, the Church celebrates the Solemnity of Saint Joseph. In the midst of a time which is otherwise concentrated on simplifying life, on paying attention to our own conversion, and on being rather serious about paying attention to the movements of the spirit within us, this day is like a breath of fresh air, a party in the midst of an otherwise somber moment.

On the island of Orléans in Québec, there is a tradition of taking a break from the Lenten disciplines, complete with masks somewhat remeniscent of Mardi Gras. Perhaps on the day when the Universal Church celebrates this Solemnity, when the Canadian Church remembers its patron saint, when we all look to the Husband of Mary as an example of quiet faith, we should also give thanks for his example of quiet service, humble acceptance and faithfulness.

It wouldn't hurt either if we asked him to help us discover these gifts and deepen them in our own lives.

Oh, and I discovered the Italian tradition of Zeppole today too ... can't wait until tomorrow to try them, even though they should traditionally be made and enjoyed today in the true tradition of Sicily.

Words, words, words

The writer of the gospel of John must have absolutely loved using words. In many parts of his gospel, there are layers and layers to the truths he speaks about. Unlike the other three gospels, this one relates to Jesus with a fore-knowledge of his glory. To this extent, this gospel is truly one of faith.

In particular today's gospel places Jesus in the company of 'the Jews' and he's trying to justify what he's doing. The reader of this gospel passage would understandably comprehend Jesus as a wordsmith, but the truth of the matter is that it's the writer of John's gospel who put the words in his mouth.

The funny thing is that when it comes to prayer, Jesus himself told us not to waste words. The Father knows what we need even before we ask for it, so what's truly important is that we place ourselves humbly before the Lord, and simply trust that he is always with us, that he is listening attentively and that he answers in ways that not only respond to our requests, but that provide us with blessings in abundance ... and all we have to do is ask, with few words if any at all.

New heavens and a new earth

Following is the reflection shared today at the Memorial Service held at Saint Ignatius RC church in memory of Lydia Winifred Chung:

Father Paul, Father Alex, and all those who call this place their spiritual home, thank you for your hospitality, for your welcome and for the many gestures of comfort and consolation you have extended to the family of Miss Wini over these past days, weeks, months and beyond.

In one of the guest rooms in my friend's home, there is a map of Grand Cayman. It's plaque mounted on a piece of foam core and hangs on the wall as a reminder of the many visits we have made to this island. He has placed a small box (in pen) over the place in Cayman Kai where grandma's home once stood, and down in the lower right-hand corner, he has placed a picture of the house (as it was then) taken from the dock, which at least during the latter part of our visits had all but become part of the beach, having been filled in with sand.

My memories of Wini actually go back further in time to another era when she lived in Guyana. It was during this time that I first learned of both Louis and Wini's involvement with the Lions clubs, when I visited at their tropical fish farm, and when I even visited with them at Christmas time when they would go to a place we knew as the Santa Mission to share sweets and little gifts with the amerindian children who were so much in need.

From a very young age, I sensed if not knew of Wini's strong personality. I learned later in life that her insistence on good manners and proper etiquette were born from her own experience of poverty. She was hard on her own children and grandchildren, but she was also unforgiving with herself because she believed that each one of us has the power to better ourselves one act, one choice at a time. She believed fervently that the world could be a better place and that we could make it better one day at a time.

There’s one thing missing in my friend’s photo: the wooden hut that once stood on the beach in front of the house at Cayman Kai. Its slanted roof was constructed that way to shade the rays of the sun, but from a distance, one might be tempted to think that its construction was weakening beneath the weight of years, and that it would soon fall over. This was the place where so many meals were shared among family and friends, where so many words were spoken between confidants, and where so much wisdom was passed on from one person to another. If that hut could talk, its secrets would fill volumes!

In the second reading chosen for this liturgy, Saint Paul compares our earthly life to a tent, a temporary dwelling made of canvas and supported by poles and pegs. When it’s time to move on, we can uproot the pegs, pack up the polls and fold up the canvas. So when our life on earth is complete, this physical body passes away, but our lives, our memories, the lessons and wisdom we have gleaned go on.

As we listened to the words of the gospel today, could we not envisage grandma herself encountering God and chatting with him? The conversation might go something like this: ‘Those you have given to me have been your gift to me. I wish that where I am, they may be too’. It’s up to us now. We must all continue the task of loving one another, of finding beauty in the world around us, or celebrating God’s goodness and of never ceasing our quest to understand how His goodness and mercy are shown to us each day.

In the book of Revelation, John spoke of his vision of a new heaven and a new earth. I’m convinced that each day of her life, grandma tried in her own way to make a little bit of difference to someone, to understand and to build up this new heaven while believing strongly that it is possible to re-create the earth in the image of God. The physical traces of this, her house at Cayman Kai and the hut that stood on the beach are now no more, but the memories that were created there will go on.

I too have a memory. Each year when it was time to leave the island, I would sit in the water at Cayman Kai and allow the waves to gently wash over my body. The current swaying gently to and fro left me with a memory that would bring me back again each year. May we all find such places and opportunities to touch the sacred. May we always honour the relationships that challenge us to better ourselves, and may we cherish each day as a new opportunity to touch the face of God.

Create a new world

What will heaven be like?

A wise person once ventured to dream of a place where the impossible would become possible: where someone who has had no musical talent at all in this life would be capable of playing a violin like a vertuoso.

For each of us, heaven may be a bit different. It will be a place where our dreams and hopes will exceed our wildest imaginings, where all our imperfections will be corrected and where all people, regardless of their station in this life will find a way to get along. I suppose in that sense, it will be a lot like the original dream for the Garden of Eden.

Today's reflection from the book of the prophet Isaiah paints a hopeful picture of this new heaven, this new earth. But then again, the ideals of this world yet to come are not unreachable for us here on earth. It might take a momentous happening indeed for humans to be able to set aside our own thirst for self and to work at making such a world possible, but this is a dream worth dreaming. This is an ideal worth fighting for.

We must believe that there are many, both in public places and in quiet corners who dream of such a day. These are the unsung heros who we should celebrate today, and every day for they are the ones who will call us and challenge us to create a world where all can be one.

A message for everyone

Poor Jesus. He had a message to share, but some wouldn't listen.

Today's gospel puts us in company with tax collectors and sinners (some of Jesus' favorite people) but also in the midst of the power mongers of the day. Pharisees and scribes were among the wealthy of the day. Some if not a good portion of them made their wealth by (shall we say) dishonest means, and were rather resentful of any who would dare to call them to task. As it was, they also had amassed quite considerable social status and many were afraid to speak out against them, but that's exactly what Jesus came to do: to challenge the status quo and to call us to a new-found liberation.

Jesus still has a message to share. His call is for us to recognize injustice and to do something about it. His call is for us to identify those in our midst who are cast off by society, and to take steps to help them recognize that they too have a privileged place in the kingdom. His call often challenges us, stretches our horizons and tugs at us until we give up the fight for autonomy, choosing rather to follow his promptings, to live as witnesses and disciples, and doing what we can to challenge our friends, relatives and others who see us up close or far away to listen to his message.

This message speaks of love. This message speaks of forgiveness. This message speaks of the dignity that we all have and to which we are called. When all is said and done, we can be our own worst enemies if we choose to focus on the little things rather than on the big picture. Dare to believe that this message is for you, for me, for everyone. Dare to believe that Jesus wants us all to follow him and to be examples of love and forgiveness for others.

When a storm is needed

In the normal course of daily events, at least some of us come into contact with all kinds of different people. Some of them are genuinely concerned when there is cause for worry; some are truly capable of celebrating joy and happy moments; and others are only concerned with their own agendas. To be fair, sometimes even these have legitimate reasons for their self-absorbed manner, but one would hope that there would be at least the odd ray of sunshine that would be capable of breaking through the clouds and shrouds that encircle their peripheries.

Sometimes it takes a new wind to blow away such cobwebs and to jolt us into seeing beyond our own concerns to the truth of others who are either worse off than we, or perhaps even in need of our help. At times, this wind is a gentle breeze, but at other moments, its necessary that a tempest or a gale arrive in our lives to shake everything up and to wash away all the clutter.

These are the kinds of experiences that can arrive without much warning, but ones that we should be on the lookout for. In the time of Jesus, he used words to wake up his listeners, but I wonder what other tactics he used. I wonder too if he needed to be shaken up from time to time by people like his parents, perhaps his grandparents or other wisdom people among his family and friends. We all need those kinds of moments from time to time, and we should always be ready to thank the people who dare to shake us up ... because in the end they do it out of love and make us better people.

Love in action

There are certain times of the year that are particularly difficult, especially for thsoe who are grieving. Christmas, for instance (a time that is traditionally devoted to family) is particularly poignant for many.

A few years ago, I heard of one pastor who would visit personally at Christmastime with every family in the parish who had celebrated a funeral during the previous year. He would present each family with a poinsettia as a tangible reminder of his visit, and of the prayerful support of the community. This simple but significant gesture speaks eloquently of the love that is demonstrated when a community at prayer cares for those who are in pain.

As I am writing this reflection, I am away from my usual desk, visiting with a family who is in mourning, having received the news in recent days of the death of the matriarch of the family. These next days will be praticulary difficult for some, but will also be significant moments of blessing for all those who are present, and for those who are not as well.

Funerals, and the rituals which surround them are signs of love and rituals which speak of life which continues even after our earthly existence is complete. The rituals are meant to celebrate the past, to commemorate the present, and to help those who mourn to look forward in hope.

Wisdom at the well

Still catching up with the week's events folks. Following is the text of the reflection that was shared this past weekend at the parish where I am assigned. I can't take credit for it though; this belongs to the seminarian intern who is currently spending some time with us:

Today’s readings give us much to reflect upon, but I have chosen to focus on two points: our hardness of heart and God’s infinite mercy. It is truly fitting that these be our themes in the middle of Lent, and they are as terrifying for me as they may seem to all of you.

In our first reading, we recall the obstinacy of the Israelites, who, although they were already rescued from slavery in Egypt quickly forgot that God had kept His promise, and began to murmur against Him. All priests and religious have to meditate on this event every day of the year. Psalm 95, also the Psalm of today’s Mass is the one that Holy Mother Church proposes to us as the introduction to the prayers of the breviary to warn us against becoming stubborn as the Israelites. I have often wondered why, of all the texts of holy scripture this should be the one that we are asked to recite each and every day, and, what’s more the one with which we are expected to begin our day. Today’s reading helps me to formulate an answer. As someone who is called to serve, even though not yet fully there, I am already graced to experience your joys and your sorrows, your struggles and your victories. Priests and religious, and those in training occupy a privileged place, as did Moses. We are called to be God amongst you, and to intercede on your behalf. The trust that you place in us is tremendous, but also astonishing. Having access to the most intimate parts of your lives is a blessing and also a curse. We all know how much pain and misery there is in our world, and, unlike the Israelites who at least had the excuse that they were not yet in the promised land, we have our Saviour, and we know His name. Even still, in the face of your pain and your sorrow, there is always the temptation to grow cold and weary. To either doubt the presence of God, or, what’s worse, to forget that we are but His servants, and instead of being His instruments, to become like Satan and usurp His role and to impose our own thoughts and desires on you. I pray, and I also ask your prayers that I may never grow weary of serving you, and of making God present in your lives, and of showing you the face of Christ our Saviour.

Saint Paul has some very consoling words for us today. He reminds us, in no uncertain terms of the depths of God’s love for us. While we were sinners, cut off from the grace of God and unable to regain it, He became one of us, and He died for us. God became Man while we were all still condemned. He did not look on the offence we gave Him; rather, in His infinite love and mercy, He cared more about our suffering than He did about his Divinity. The Creator became a creature and took upon himself the fate of His creation so that we could once more live in His presence and obtain the happiness we had but gave away. Bear that in mind: God paid the price of our sins before we had been restored to being His sons and daughters. Surely then, now that we are privileged with baptism, he will not refuse his forgiveness no matter what we have done. Mother Angelica very wisely says ‘there is nothing that offends God more than believing that your sins cannot be forgiven.’ That is, nothing that you can do is unforgiveable, except of course your denial that it can be forgiven, or your refusal to ask forgiveness. God has already redeemed us, and His mercy has already been shown to us, we have only to ask for it.

Today’s Gospel is one of my favourite passages in all of the Bible both as an expression of God’s infinite love, and as instruction to me on how to be a Priest. Look at Jesus, at what St. John tells us about Him. He was tired, and He was hungry and He thirsted. Even still, He did not lose an opportunity to love and to forgive. Jesus knew well that Samaritans were not liked by Jews, but He did not care, His only concern was the good of the Samaritan woman. He uses a simple request to open her heart to the truth. He asks her for a drink, knowing that she would give it to Him. Such a simple scene: Jesus asks for a drink, and she, amazed first enquires why he, a Jew is speaking to her, a Samaritan. Isn’t this what happens to you and I when we pray. As soon as we find ourselves in the presence of God, is not this our reaction as well? Are we not amazed that Jesus speaks to us? Do we not find ourselves on the one hand unworthy of His presence, and on the other hand desirous that it continue? Notice how attentive the woman is. First she sees that Jesus is a Jew, and now she sees that He has no jug with which to receive the water.

Look at Jesus, can you not see the smile on His face as the woman who does not understand what He is saying continues to listen to Him? Is this not what a parent does with a young child? Do you not smile when your children ask you questions, and, even though they don’t understand your answers keep asking anyways? See how patient Jesus is? He takes the Samaritan woman exactly as she is, and He loves her. He does not get angry with her, He is not condescending, He does not tell her that she should know better; rather, He gently moves her forward. Why does He do so? He is God, and, being God, He knows her heart. In fact, He knows her better than she knows herself. He sees the goodness that is hidden deep within her soul. After all, she is made in His image and likeness, and so, rather than seeing the differences, or the tarnishes, He sees the similarities. At the same time, He is not blind to her defects. God’s love is not stupidity, nor is it naïve optimism. He knows well her faults and her shortcomings, and He knows that, in order to be fulfilled she must change. God’s love for us is not an excuse to sin; neither is it some silly kind of make believe in which we pretend to be perfect, and He pretends not to know that we are not. What makes God’s love so strong and attractive is precisely the fact that we need it, but don’t deserve it. God has no need of us, He is perfect and complete on His own. He did not create us in His image and likeness for His own sake; rather, He did so for us. God wanted to share His goodness and perfection, He did not need to create us and He did not need to redeem us. It is pure love, completely directed towards us, and not at all concerned for Himself. Our creation by God was a gift, and, following on that, so was our Redemption. God would not have lost anything if He had left us in our sin, but, He preferred to take our burden upon Himself and to be deprived of His Divine majesty, so that we, who refused His loving gift could once again say yes to love.

Remember that Jesus was a complete stranger to the woman, and yet, she opens herself up totally to Him. He knows that she is living in sin, and still He talks with her about it. She does not hide her sin from Him. There is something about Him that makes her feel at ease, that overcomes her shame and her guilt. This encounter is not a primitive version of a day time talk show. She is not bragging, she is not making excuses, she is not trying to justify herself. She simply says ‘I have no husband.’ Then seeing her sincerity, Jesus does not hesitate to speak clearly the truth. He tells her that she has had five previous husbands, and is now living with another man. Consider the era. This was a time when women were stoned for adultery. This woman has committed a capital offence, she has merited the death sentence, and Jesus has just informed her that He knows this fact. What does she do? Does she run away? Does she deny it? Does she criticize Jesus? No! She has faith, and she knows that no one but a prophet could have such detailed knowledge of her sinful life. What’s more, she clearly sees that this is a man (she did yet know that He was God) whose love for her is greater than the crimes she has committed. She acknowledges that He is a prophet, and she immediately asks Him about the proper way to honour God.

Any true encounter with Christ always takes this form. When you are in God’s loving presence, you at once have a knowledge of your failings, and, at the same time have the certainty that His love for you goes far beyond your weaknesses. There is no need to make excuses, in fact, there is no desire to do so. Standing sinful before the Lord is more comforting than being justified in His absence. Indeed, God would prefer that you come before Him in your sin than that you run away from Him in innocence. This is why He tells us that there is more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over 99 just men who have no need of conversion. There is something so profound about being accepted by God in your misery that an ancient hymn, which is sung every year at the Easter Vigil says ‘O Happy Fault, O Necessary Sin, that won for us so great a saviour.’ A great saint of the 20th century was once asked what the happiest moment in his life was. He replied in all simplicity ‘every time I confess my sins and hear the words of absolution is the happiest moment of my life.’ If we are truly humble, we will not be disturbed by our sinfulness. We will want to change, and we will pray to God for the strength to change, and we will go to confession whenever we feel overwhelmed, but we will never be discouraged and we will never despair. Only those who are following the devil entertain the thought that they should be better than they are, or that it is useless to try to change.

God does not abandon us, as often as we need His mercy, He is there waiting for us. A cup of water is all it took for the Samaritan woman to win eternal life. At the same time, those of us who are priests, or who, like myself are on the road to the priesthood must also do a profound examination of conscience. Woe to me if I am ever lacking in the compassion of Christ. It is true that, by ordination He relies on mere men to dispense His mysteries and grace, at the same time, there is that danger of hardness of heart that we meditated on with the first reading. It is true, there can be occasions when God is not able to forgive sins, but they are very rare, and, even then, the job of the Priest is to help the person who seems trapped in an irresolvable situation of sin to see the light at the end of the tunnel and to pray, along with that person for the grace to bring about a situation in which absolution can be given. There is nothing more terrifying than being refused absolution. I know, because when I was a teen-ager it happened to me. I was visiting Rome, and I went to St. Peter’s Basilica for Mass and I decided to go to confession. At the time I was not well formed, and so, when I went to confession, I did not use the proper form of introducing my sins. The old priest became very angry with me, and said that I could not possibly be sorry, or else I would have said ‘bless me father for I have sinned’ and he refused to absolve me. I told him that I was getting on a plane the following morning, and could I not simply begin the confession again, but he said ‘no, you can’t, go away and pray and come back some other time.’ Thank God I had many friends who are priests and so, when I got back from Rome and went to see my Pastor with tears in my eyes, he told me not to worry, that I had done nothing wrong, and then he heard my confession, the very same one I had tried to make two days earlier in Rome. Please, if any of you have had a bad experience, as I have had, do not let it stop you from returning to the sacrament of reconciliation. Now is the time, and here is the place. God loves you, and He is waiting for you, even if, at times, it can seem as though his priests are not.

When we experience God’s mercy, we cannot but become His disciples. Look at the Samaritan woman. She was so moved by Jesus’ love that she went about her town proclaiming to everyone that she had found the Messiah. Then, even though the whole town must have known about her reputation, there is no way she had five husbands and was now living with a sixth man, without everyone knowing, they all believe her and they go out to find Jesus. The Gospel ends with those beautiful words ‘It is no longer because of your words that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is indeed the Savior of the world.’ Forgiveness of sins always leads to the knowledge of God, and Jesus is the one who forgives our sins. You have nothing to be afraid of. Jesus has already paid the price of your redemption. He has already won the victory over sin and death. There is only one thing that you can do to deny Christ His victory and that is to refuse His mercy by not confessing your sins. May the infinite merits of the Passion, Death and Resurrection of Jesus obtain for us all the grace to make frequent use of the sacrament of reconciliation, and, if there is something that you have been hiding, perhaps even for many years, may you have the strength to approach the tribunal of divine mercy and to cleanse yourself in the blood of the lamb.

Facing the demons

Hi again folks. It's been a while since I last sat to write lines in this place, but I know that some have been starving for food of this sort, so sorry for the inconvenience.

Hmmm .... starving for words, for guidance, for nourishment ... wasn't this (in effect) what happened to the Israelites as they wandered in the desert? Isn't this the image that's recalled for us each year during this season of Lent? Perhaps it might be worthwhile to pause and reflect on the value of depriving ourselves (we call this discipline fasting) in order to discover or re-discover the things for which our souls truly thirst.

As it happens, the quotation from the book of Daniel in Tuesday's scriptures is a meditation worth examining. The prayer of Azariah becomes our own prayer as we too stand in the midst of trials and tests (whether those trials come from forces outside of us or from within) and we find ourselves stripped of all excuses, provided we're honest with ourselves. The result is that we must stand before the Lord, with no tangible offering to be given. This can be a very vulnerable moment, and a difficult place to be, but we must stand still in this place if we are to learn the lessons that are being taught.

Only once we have reached this place, faced the fear that rears its ugly head when we look deep into the recesses of places where we have hidden the secrets of life, and brought them all into the light of faith and truth can we find the serenity of standing silently before the God who loves us. This is a moment of grace, for it is the discovery of deep and abiding love that results, and this discovery is enough to feed our hearts, our spirits and our souls.

This is the place that we must be in if we want to truly understand and appreciate the blessings of the Resurrection.

Protocol with grace

An integral part of social behavior is the observance of certain established protocol.

Whether we are children or adults, when we are invited to a party, the custom of the place is that we should offer a gift of some kind to the host or to the guest of honour. However, choosing the right gift is not always apparent. In truth, the guest might conceivably spend a vast amount of time and effort trying to identify a particular gift, but whatever form that offering might take, it does not really become a gift until it is accepted.

Lent is like a party, and we are the guests of honour. The gift being offered is grace, and the invited guest is much wiser than we might profess to be. Grace makes itself known to us in many and various situations, and with a miriad of different faces. All we are asked to do is to accept the gift of God. In fact, others who have recognized this precious gift, and who live in its light continue to call to us across the confines of time, encouraging us to accept this gift, to embrace it, and to allow it to transform us. If we do, this time of grace can truly be a time of blessing.

Simple gestures

A few years ago, I had a wonderful opportunity to live with and to work with Bob Harris. To us he was known as a bishop, but to his friends and relations he insisted on being known as Bishop Bob.

From the day he arrived (and probably for many years previous), he had a practice of calling his parents every night to say hello. This simple gesture was and instant sign of his love for them, and a testimony to the closeness of their relationship. During the time we lived together, he also introduced me to both his parents when they came to visit with him for a few days.

When Bob moved to another province a few years ago, I was fortunate enough to be able to visit with him and to witness once more his ongoing witness of calling his parents every day to say hello. Even just for a few moments at a time, this was enough to keep them close despite the physical miles that separated them.

A couple of years ago, we received the news that Charles, Bob's father had died. Although I was not able to be present for the funeral, I did send a note of sympathy, and received one in return: a gentle sign from this gentle man of his appreciation for a simple act of kindness. This past week, we received the news that Claire, his mother has finally completed her earthly journey. The funeral Mass was celebrated yesterday, and once again I was not able to make the journey, but once again, I sent a simple note of sympathy.

Friendships are created through simple gestures and words. They are knitted together through shared experiences and wisdom, and held together despite physical distance thanks to the care and love that we invest at significant moments (and even at not so significant times too).

Bob learned the value of relationships from his parents and from others. In his own simple way, he continues to teach this important lesson to us all. May we treasure this opportunity, and appreciate ever more deeply the gift that is being offered.

The grass is always greener

How many times have we been guilty of perceiving prosperity and pondering it's absence in our lives? Worse yet, how many times have we invested great energy into trying to go after that which is not our own, or that which we truly don't need?

According to the rules of capitalism, competition is a good thing. It keeps the prices of commodities at relatively affordable levels, but it also holds the potential for feeding human temptations toward such vices as greed and envy. These are no strangers to the human heart. In fact they have been with us (it would seem) since the beginning of our existence. Greed and envy (along with many other similar vices) have ruined many a good relationship, and constantly threaten to bare their ugly heads if we're not on the lookout.

Prime examples of these behaviors show up in the story of Joseph and his brothers, and in the stories that Jesus recounted to his disciples about landowners who dared to entrust their riches to supposedly trusted tenants. Left to their own devices, both these groups of individuals fell prey to the temptation toward self-centredness, all in the name of trying to go after perceived riches or blessings which ultimately led to disasterous consequences.

As we draw ever deeper into the season of Lent, perhaps it would do us well to consider the ways that we too fall prey to these temptations. Identifying these occasions is the first step to controlling the desire for selfish gain. It might even help us to begin anew on the path toward overcoming these temptations (one day at a time) and concentrating rather on celebrating the good fortune of others, while recognizing our own gifts with gratitude.

Speaking in parables

One of the axioms I remember from my youth is Never insult your audience. This little phrase says profound things about the respect we owe to each other.

Living in this world means that we must learn to get along with others. We begin learning this lesson as children (even as infants) at the dinner table, in the playground, in the classroom and most especially in our own families.

Getting along with others teaches us to see that in the end, we're not all that different, one from another. All of us are on the same road, and the sooner we learn this truth, the easier it is to live compassionately, to love deeply and to walk humbly with God and with one another (cf Mi 6:4). Some who have already begun to learn this lesson need to share this good news with others, and if we're lucky, others will also get it, and begin to practice it.

Jesus too didn't want to insult his audience, but he wanted them to learn this lesson (and others like it). Like most teachers (in the classical sense of the word) he was beginning with a bunch of people who were 'diamonds in the rough'. He needed to continue buffing and polishing them, refining their understanding so that they would become sensitive to another truth, that each of them (and each of us) is precious, loved and cherished. This is not always seen in the relationships we cultivate in the world around us, but it is true at the core of our being, at the place where God meets us.

On the outside, it's possible for human beings to become so absorbed in themselves that they lose sight of the opportunity to love, to be compassionate, to help others to find their way. In fact, it is possible to become so desensitized to this truth that we prefer to ignore it or convince ourselves that it doesn't exist. In truth, at the core of our being, at the place where God speaks to us, we all long to be understood, to be loved, and so we are not all that different from the ones we might ourselves choose to ignore.

From half-way around the world

There is a comercial on television these days that is selling OREO cookies. The story line involves some play time between a father and his son, each of whom is enjoying a cookie (complete with the requisite glass of milk). Only as the exchange is complete do we discover that the two are interacting courtesy of a video chat line and that one of them is at the end of his day while the other is at the beginning of his.

This morning (in the city where I live), I discovered a note that had been left on my SKYPE accout from an aquaintence who happens to be in Korea. I had recently added him as one of my contacts, and requested that he allow me to chat with him. Having discovered the note there, I promptly responded and before long we were carrying on a text conversation, but soon I invited him to consider adding video so that we could see one another. It was a wonderful surprise both for me and for him. He's there for a year, so I invited him to share some of his adventures with us so that we could follow his discoveries. He gladly sent me the contact information for his blog (which I've also added in by blog list.

Congratulations John Paul. Keep in touch.

In weakness, strength

The world around seems at times to be super-charged with encouragement to show the world that we are strong. Whether it's a matter of national defense or simply the face we show in public, in many cultures, weakness is just not tolerated.

Not so (at least not always so) in the eyes of God. The scriptures often speak of the importance of paying attention to the weak; they even encourage us to learn from the less fortunate. What lessons are ours to be learned from these? It would seem that in the face of structures which encourage shows of bravado, our faith calls us to be compassionate. When the visible world encourages us to seek individual interests, God's word counsels that we should not judge, lest we ourselves be judged.

There's also an interesting image which appeared in the Office of Readings for today. The Book of Exodus (17:1-16) recounts the battle between Joshua and Amilek at Rephidim. This took place while Moses himself was witnessing all that took place, and it would seem that this was also a test of divine power because whenever Moses held his hands up (as in an orans posture), Joshua was victorious, but when he let his hands fall because of fatigue, Amilek began to show signs of victory. As it turns out, Moses was not alone though. Aaron and Hur were able to come to his assistance, by helping to prop his arms up, and therefore to bring about victory.

The world around us, while urging us to show bravado also encourages individualism, but this is often detrimental in the long run because it leads to competition instead of cooperation. The irony is that strength based on individual merit often finds itself cut down when the slightest weakness in the outer armor is detected, whereas strength which comes from within is only possible if we begin with an admission of absolute weakness. This kind of weakness does not reflect a physical incapacity, but rather a necessity to discern a Divine Will and to cooperate with its urgings because when all is said and done, no human power is able to resist it.

Strength of this nature is able to withstand all wounds, for it is often discovered only through the wounds that are inflicted, suffered, endured and learned from.

Living in the age of political correctness

For years now, Canadians (and perhaps a few other cultures) have stressed the importance of political correctness in the behaviours and norms we model for our children. The proverbial bar for adherence to this principle seems to have been on the rise until present day, but every now and then, there appears a moment or example where this principle is taken too far.

In today's gospel passage (Lk 6:36-38), Jesus encourages his disciples to practice mercy. Mercy is the gift of the Lenten period. During this liturgical season, we are invited to recognize the gift of God's merciful love for each of us (a gift that is personally offered to each of us) and in the light of this mercy, to allow God to mould us and to teach us to practice love and mercy with others. This is one of the hallmarks of the disciples of modern day (as it was also true of the disciples of biblical times).

Pracicing mercy does not however mean that we are obliged to leave room for political correctness in the way we respond to life's little challenges. As difficult as it may be at times, we are more effective disciples when we challenge the injustices in our society instead of resigning ourselves to the belief that we are powerless to make a difference.

Being an effective disciple does mean that we should refrain from judging people (only God can judge us) but this kind of judgement is meant to pertain to the question of whether or not we are worthy of heaven, not whether or not we are doing what is right or wrong. In fact, judgement of that which is right or wrong, if left unchecked, can result in relativism and this is very difficult indeed because taken to its extreme, there are less and less objectivity in our decisions.

There's a place and time for everything. A place for political correctness, a time to observe it and a time to recognize the need for daring to be (ehem) just a bit different. Daring to not conform isn't always easy, but it is precisely the thing that makes us attractive to others, when they wonder about just what it is that makes us tick. Keep them guessing.