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.