The phone rang, and I answered - nothing bizzare there. What happened next though was truly a moment of grace. On the other end of the phone was a familiar voice, one I had heard many times before. As we began to speak, I pictured the person (I've seen him many times in various circumstances). The issue at hand was a client of his who was in need, desperate need of help. He had been looking for help for this client for more than a day now, and was not getting very far.
None of the regualar sources were able to help, but he wasn't going to give up. It was important that this client was moved out of the city, and sent to a safe place. The question was not even how to get this done, but rather how to find the necessary funds to make it happen.
As we spoke, I remembered that we happen to have some funds at our disposal, not immediately available to us, but not far away either. At the discuression of the pastor (that's me), these funds have been directed by their donor to be used to help those of the city who are most in need. It didn't take long for me to make the decision, but getting the necessary paperwork done was a bit of a different question ... although not an impossibility.
As the years go by, I am convinced more and more that 'interruptions' to the regular routines of life such as these are things to which we should pay attention, because more often than not, they are opportunities for grace, for God to act in our society. They are moments when we are asked to act in faith, to make a difference in someone's life. It's not a time to pose too many questions (aside from those which help us to determine whether the request itself is legitimate.
Before the sun set, our friend was well on the way home. I'm not sure whether it was a miraculous happening, but I do know that it was a moment for grace to be shared, for partnerships to be reinforced, and for a group of concerned citizens to make a difference in the life of one needy person.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Working on relationships
Some of the faces around the table were familiar, and others were brand new. That didn't take long to rectify, and then it was down to business. Give a bunch of strangers a common purpose and let them go. If the purpose is right, and if all those gathered around the fire can identify with the need, they'll all do what they can to pitch in, to solve the dilemma and to rectify the problem(s).
This is the essence of planning, and then implementing a master plan. In the process, strangers become friends, stories get shared, and the odd contact information also changes hands.
The world is just a bit better because people are concerned about people, and want to make a difference.
This is the essence of planning, and then implementing a master plan. In the process, strangers become friends, stories get shared, and the odd contact information also changes hands.
The world is just a bit better because people are concerned about people, and want to make a difference.
A different kind of meeting
What happens when we ned a meeting, in the middle of one of the most memorable summers we've had in a long time?
Answer: you move the venue to lakeside, serve a fabulous meal, take as much time as you need until the sun sets, and-or the army of monquitoes makes it almost impossible to sit still, even with a net spread around for protection. This is the time for visiting, for getting to know one another in a very relaxed environment, something different from the normal pace of life.
With gratitude to our hosts, to all those who were present for their dedication and commitment, to those who were absent, for various reasons, and of course to God for a more than varied choice of weather patterns, each of which bought its own level of adventure.
Answer: you move the venue to lakeside, serve a fabulous meal, take as much time as you need until the sun sets, and-or the army of monquitoes makes it almost impossible to sit still, even with a net spread around for protection. This is the time for visiting, for getting to know one another in a very relaxed environment, something different from the normal pace of life.
With gratitude to our hosts, to all those who were present for their dedication and commitment, to those who were absent, for various reasons, and of course to God for a more than varied choice of weather patterns, each of which bought its own level of adventure.
How long does it take?
The trip to the cottage usually takes about three hours, no matter which of the two routes I take. So it was that the trip there took just a bit more than 180 minutes, but this was not to be so for the trip back home.
On Tuesday morning, I began the voyage with plenty of time to spare, that is until I reached about the half-way point, just north of the little village of Nobel. This is a familiar stop for travellers along Highway 69. I even managed to follow the speed limit signs .. until I had just passed through the town. Even before the next hamelt of Carling, all the traffic was being re-routed by the Provincial Police.
I didn't know it at the time, but apparently there had been a major accident earlier that morning, involving a head-on collision between two transport trucks (which are more recently referred to as tractor trailers, although this partcular nomenclature conjures images for me of certain farm implements). The detour added almost another hour to the trip, but I did indeed get to my intended destination without any further delay, and for this I am thankful.
Apparently the investigation on site lasted most of the day. One of the drivers ended up in hospital with 'non-life threatening injuries' but the other driver wasn't so lucky. I can just imagine what his (or her) family must have said when they found out.
On Tuesday morning, I began the voyage with plenty of time to spare, that is until I reached about the half-way point, just north of the little village of Nobel. This is a familiar stop for travellers along Highway 69. I even managed to follow the speed limit signs .. until I had just passed through the town. Even before the next hamelt of Carling, all the traffic was being re-routed by the Provincial Police.
I didn't know it at the time, but apparently there had been a major accident earlier that morning, involving a head-on collision between two transport trucks (which are more recently referred to as tractor trailers, although this partcular nomenclature conjures images for me of certain farm implements). The detour added almost another hour to the trip, but I did indeed get to my intended destination without any further delay, and for this I am thankful.
Apparently the investigation on site lasted most of the day. One of the drivers ended up in hospital with 'non-life threatening injuries' but the other driver wasn't so lucky. I can just imagine what his (or her) family must have said when they found out.
Unexpected suprises
Ok, there comes a time when we must all get caught up with the little things that would run away from us if we weren't as asiduous as we need be. So, I must think back a few days and try to get caught up with the many things for which I must be thankful.
Sunday afternoon, I made my way to the cottage, expecting to meet with family for a day or so of R&R. When I arrived, I found that not only the ones I was expecting were present; they were also accompanied by some of their friends who had come to spend a day or so with them (with us).
Some people don't do surprises like this very well, but some of us just roll with the punches. As it turns out, this was a wonderful occasion to visit with all those who were present. This meant that there was time for catching up with one, through a quiet conversation or two, for the telling of stories so varied that I wouldn't know where to begin the relating,
Time for a boat ride, time for lazing by the water, time for some board games, and of course, time for partaking of one of the most copious banquets I've seen in a long time ... so much so that the leftovers filled more than twelve baggies not to mention basketsful.
Oh, and of course, a visit to the casino nearby, and no I didn't make a donation.
Sunday afternoon, I made my way to the cottage, expecting to meet with family for a day or so of R&R. When I arrived, I found that not only the ones I was expecting were present; they were also accompanied by some of their friends who had come to spend a day or so with them (with us).
Some people don't do surprises like this very well, but some of us just roll with the punches. As it turns out, this was a wonderful occasion to visit with all those who were present. This meant that there was time for catching up with one, through a quiet conversation or two, for the telling of stories so varied that I wouldn't know where to begin the relating,
Time for a boat ride, time for lazing by the water, time for some board games, and of course, time for partaking of one of the most copious banquets I've seen in a long time ... so much so that the leftovers filled more than twelve baggies not to mention basketsful.
Oh, and of course, a visit to the casino nearby, and no I didn't make a donation.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Ancient and newIn m
A few months ago (or was that a couple of years ago now), someone told me about prayer shawls, and suggested that I might be interested in creating one or two.
I knew then of the Jewish custom of wearing a prayer shawl for certain times of prayer, but I was also curious to find out more, so I've done a bit of research and found out that the garment is called a tallit (pronounce it tal-lit) with the accent on the final syllable.
The use of these garments can be traced back almost 4000 years, and still continues today. They have traditionally been presented as gifts from father to son, from mother to daughter, and in more recent times, as tangible reminders of prayer that is offered for friends, relatives and those in special need.
In my case, they've been made for family members, for a new-born niece, and for friends and acquaintances from far and near who are in special need. These are the kinds of things that one does not ask for. They just seem to appear, along with a little bit of explanation and a whole lot of prayer.
I knew then of the Jewish custom of wearing a prayer shawl for certain times of prayer, but I was also curious to find out more, so I've done a bit of research and found out that the garment is called a tallit (pronounce it tal-lit) with the accent on the final syllable.
The use of these garments can be traced back almost 4000 years, and still continues today. They have traditionally been presented as gifts from father to son, from mother to daughter, and in more recent times, as tangible reminders of prayer that is offered for friends, relatives and those in special need.
In my case, they've been made for family members, for a new-born niece, and for friends and acquaintances from far and near who are in special need. These are the kinds of things that one does not ask for. They just seem to appear, along with a little bit of explanation and a whole lot of prayer.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Speaking of unsung heroes
This seems to be the week for celebrating heroes, both those we know and those we don't.
It seems funny that in the earlier part of this afternoon, I was spending a few moments with Ozzy and the kids he's going to be working with over the next couple of weeks: kids who haven't had it too easy in life, kids who have built up lots of crust and walls ... and then this afternoon, I have a wonderful opportunity to spend some time with another teenager, one who seems to have so much going for him.
At first glance, privilege might seem to separate the first group of youth from this latter individual, but there are lots of things that transcend the world of privilege, and for which they should all be commended. Put aside the fear that seems to separate Ozzy's kids from immediately getting to know strangers who walk through the door, and I'm sure you'll find hearts who are thirsting for approval, spirits who are still willing to entertain the possibility of dreaming, hands that are eager to be of service, souls that still hope for a better tomorrow.
Dreams held in the heart of my later guest are not so different. The only thing is that he's been fortunate enough to have a family who loves him, other adults in his life who care about who he is, and about who he'll become.
When I discovered a project that I thought he might be able to help with, I didn't hesitate to ask, and he didn't hesitate to accept the occasion to lend a hand. When all is said and done, the actual mechanics of putting together the object at hand (whether that's building a bike, or putting together a BBQ) is secondary to the infinitely more valuable opportunity to spend time together, to get to know one another better, and to learning the simple yet profound lessons of courtesy toward others, self-esteem and mutual respect.
It seems funny that in the earlier part of this afternoon, I was spending a few moments with Ozzy and the kids he's going to be working with over the next couple of weeks: kids who haven't had it too easy in life, kids who have built up lots of crust and walls ... and then this afternoon, I have a wonderful opportunity to spend some time with another teenager, one who seems to have so much going for him.
At first glance, privilege might seem to separate the first group of youth from this latter individual, but there are lots of things that transcend the world of privilege, and for which they should all be commended. Put aside the fear that seems to separate Ozzy's kids from immediately getting to know strangers who walk through the door, and I'm sure you'll find hearts who are thirsting for approval, spirits who are still willing to entertain the possibility of dreaming, hands that are eager to be of service, souls that still hope for a better tomorrow.
Dreams held in the heart of my later guest are not so different. The only thing is that he's been fortunate enough to have a family who loves him, other adults in his life who care about who he is, and about who he'll become.
When I discovered a project that I thought he might be able to help with, I didn't hesitate to ask, and he didn't hesitate to accept the occasion to lend a hand. When all is said and done, the actual mechanics of putting together the object at hand (whether that's building a bike, or putting together a BBQ) is secondary to the infinitely more valuable opportunity to spend time together, to get to know one another better, and to learning the simple yet profound lessons of courtesy toward others, self-esteem and mutual respect.
Before the gang
By the time they arrive, it's too late. Any defensive strategy against gang activity must happen well in advance of any organized presence. But then again, how does a concerned community battle what seems to be an ever-increasing and an ever-more menacing presence?
Enter people like Ozzy. Through the retelling of his own story (he has walked the walk and talks the talk now), and through the witness he gives every day of his genuine love and concern for young people, especially for those who are at risk of falling prey to gangs, many a potential gang member has been 'saved' from the life which would lead to certain doom.
Ozzy himself says that what he's about is teaching youth to avoid a life of crime. Earlier this week, he arrived in the city and for the next three months, will be conducting a bike build with some of Sudbury's young adults. His somewhat unconventional methods have proven very successful with young people in Northern Quebec, and he's also planning to visit in Iqaluit in the coming weeks where he'll trade 'survival secrets' with young people in that far-northern community.
The secret to his success is based on relationships. If we take the time to get to know not the external person, but the often scared child who is hidden beneath layers of masks and hurt, and if we invest the love and caring to convince them (even for a little while) that they are truly loved, we might get through to them, and save them from a life of destruction.
As the projects here and elsewhere unfold, we'll be watching and celebrating the little victories.
Enter people like Ozzy. Through the retelling of his own story (he has walked the walk and talks the talk now), and through the witness he gives every day of his genuine love and concern for young people, especially for those who are at risk of falling prey to gangs, many a potential gang member has been 'saved' from the life which would lead to certain doom.
Ozzy himself says that what he's about is teaching youth to avoid a life of crime. Earlier this week, he arrived in the city and for the next three months, will be conducting a bike build with some of Sudbury's young adults. His somewhat unconventional methods have proven very successful with young people in Northern Quebec, and he's also planning to visit in Iqaluit in the coming weeks where he'll trade 'survival secrets' with young people in that far-northern community.
The secret to his success is based on relationships. If we take the time to get to know not the external person, but the often scared child who is hidden beneath layers of masks and hurt, and if we invest the love and caring to convince them (even for a little while) that they are truly loved, we might get through to them, and save them from a life of destruction.
As the projects here and elsewhere unfold, we'll be watching and celebrating the little victories.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
An unsung hero
I don't usually publish my reflections for funerals, but then again I rarely write them (as opposed to those for Sunday Masses), but in this case I made an exception on the first count, so why not on the second one too. Here goes:
Funeral homily for Edgar Burton
(to Edgar's family), please accept the sympathy and prayers of all those who call Christ the King their spiritual home. Over the past few days, many friends and even strangers have no doubt also expressed their condolences. Edgar was beloved by many. In quiet ways, he made a big difference in the lives of thousands of people, some of which he knew, and some if not many of which he never met.
The story of his life, told in the media over these past couple of days, was nothing short of heroic, and the deeds he accomplished were truly miraculous, but I'm sure that were he standing here today, he would want none of the accolades. Instead, he would just encourage us all to dream our dreams, and to let nothing stand in the way of their realization.
The thing about Edgar that made him so beloved was that he was just like you and me. The things he did were things that you and I can also do. All it takes is a bit of courage and a heap of faith in people's goodness, and he had both of these in abundance. People like Edgar have been immortalized in some pretty impressive ways, even in the scriptures.
In the first reading which we heard this morning, we met Elijah, one of the greatest prophets in the history of the Israelite people, and we saw how he was cared for by a widow, who didn't even have a name. People who are truly about the work of faith, making a difference in the lives of others, rarely seek any attention. They prefer to do their work, and to seek their recognition in the simple knowledge that they have made a difference in someone's life.
We know nothing about the woman of Zarephath, except that she was a widow, which means that she was probably very poor, since she would no doubt have lived on the generosity of others from the time her husband had died. Life would not have been easy for her, and yet when Elijah asked her to provide for him, she gladly obliged, and the result was that her jar of flour and her supply of oil did not go empty.
When Edgar's children asked him why some people in the world have to go hungry, he could have made up some kind of explanation about how people should take care of themselves and gone on with his life; the disciples in the gospel wanted Jesus to respond like that. They thought that he should have perhaps brushed off the need he saw, but Jesus chose a different response, and so did Edgar. Simple words spoken by children made him stop , made him ask some deep-seated questions of himself. Perhaps he heard Jesus respond, 'give them some food yourself', and he did something about it. You and I, and the city of Sudbury are the beneficiaries of his efforts today.
What Edgar did was to respond in faith with simple gestures, and with honest words. He didn't try to do great things. He just tried to do little things with great love. That's the secret to a life of faith. When Jesus gave instructions to his disciples, there was nothing complicated about what he asked, 'Bring what you have and give it to me ... then share what I give you in return with others who are in need.'
These are not difficult tasks, but the result probably left the disciples in awe, even if the crowds themselves had no idea where all the bounty came from. The result in Edgar's life perhaps left him and his family in awe too as they witnessed the astounding generosity of so many. From one simple box and a heart-felt invitation to make a difference, Edgar's efforts have grown into a legacy that has now fed thousands, and one that will live on in the hearts and the efforts of Sudburians for years to come.
When the crowds had eaten their fill, the disciples picked up twelve baskets full of the leftover fragments. Like the widow of Zarephath, their simple efforts had yielded unexpected abundance. Edgar's efforts have left us too with unbelievable riches. Thanks to the generosity of so many, there is food to feed the hungry families of our city. Thanks to the faith of so many, children in our city are making a difference now for their playmates, and for others who they may not even know.
A simple question, asked by a child one day made a profound difference in the life of one man. Simple questions can often make big differences, if we dare to listen, if we dare to act on them, if we dare to respond in faith. A little bit of effort can go a very long way.
Funeral homily for Edgar Burton
(to Edgar's family), please accept the sympathy and prayers of all those who call Christ the King their spiritual home. Over the past few days, many friends and even strangers have no doubt also expressed their condolences. Edgar was beloved by many. In quiet ways, he made a big difference in the lives of thousands of people, some of which he knew, and some if not many of which he never met.
The story of his life, told in the media over these past couple of days, was nothing short of heroic, and the deeds he accomplished were truly miraculous, but I'm sure that were he standing here today, he would want none of the accolades. Instead, he would just encourage us all to dream our dreams, and to let nothing stand in the way of their realization.
The thing about Edgar that made him so beloved was that he was just like you and me. The things he did were things that you and I can also do. All it takes is a bit of courage and a heap of faith in people's goodness, and he had both of these in abundance. People like Edgar have been immortalized in some pretty impressive ways, even in the scriptures.
In the first reading which we heard this morning, we met Elijah, one of the greatest prophets in the history of the Israelite people, and we saw how he was cared for by a widow, who didn't even have a name. People who are truly about the work of faith, making a difference in the lives of others, rarely seek any attention. They prefer to do their work, and to seek their recognition in the simple knowledge that they have made a difference in someone's life.
We know nothing about the woman of Zarephath, except that she was a widow, which means that she was probably very poor, since she would no doubt have lived on the generosity of others from the time her husband had died. Life would not have been easy for her, and yet when Elijah asked her to provide for him, she gladly obliged, and the result was that her jar of flour and her supply of oil did not go empty.
When Edgar's children asked him why some people in the world have to go hungry, he could have made up some kind of explanation about how people should take care of themselves and gone on with his life; the disciples in the gospel wanted Jesus to respond like that. They thought that he should have perhaps brushed off the need he saw, but Jesus chose a different response, and so did Edgar. Simple words spoken by children made him stop , made him ask some deep-seated questions of himself. Perhaps he heard Jesus respond, 'give them some food yourself', and he did something about it. You and I, and the city of Sudbury are the beneficiaries of his efforts today.
What Edgar did was to respond in faith with simple gestures, and with honest words. He didn't try to do great things. He just tried to do little things with great love. That's the secret to a life of faith. When Jesus gave instructions to his disciples, there was nothing complicated about what he asked, 'Bring what you have and give it to me ... then share what I give you in return with others who are in need.'
These are not difficult tasks, but the result probably left the disciples in awe, even if the crowds themselves had no idea where all the bounty came from. The result in Edgar's life perhaps left him and his family in awe too as they witnessed the astounding generosity of so many. From one simple box and a heart-felt invitation to make a difference, Edgar's efforts have grown into a legacy that has now fed thousands, and one that will live on in the hearts and the efforts of Sudburians for years to come.
When the crowds had eaten their fill, the disciples picked up twelve baskets full of the leftover fragments. Like the widow of Zarephath, their simple efforts had yielded unexpected abundance. Edgar's efforts have left us too with unbelievable riches. Thanks to the generosity of so many, there is food to feed the hungry families of our city. Thanks to the faith of so many, children in our city are making a difference now for their playmates, and for others who they may not even know.
A simple question, asked by a child one day made a profound difference in the life of one man. Simple questions can often make big differences, if we dare to listen, if we dare to act on them, if we dare to respond in faith. A little bit of effort can go a very long way.
An example for the rest of us
Wow, it's Wednesday already. Is it just me, or is the summer flying by way too quickly. We shouldn't complain though because finally we have some heat, and the 'lazy days of summer' are upon us.
Yesterday, I met with the family of Edgar Burton, who is famous in these parts for just doing what we all should do. Some people marvel at what he accomplished in his short life (some 57 years among mortals) especially in favor of the poor and the neglected of this city, but I like to think that he did just what he was supposed to do, just what we all are supposed to do.
Today, as we celebrated his funeral, I spoke about just that: how we are all called to imitate Jesus in feeding the hungry (we used the gospel story of the feeding of the 5000 as the gospel today), even if that means giving away everything we have (for another reference, we took the story of the widow of Zarephath). In the case of this guy, he put his money where his mouth was too. He invited his co-workers to contribute one can of food for the needy of the city, and each year for 10 years or so, he asked for 'just one more can'. As it turns out, he gave birth to one of the most successful food campaigns in Canada, and in the last year or so has branched out to invite school children to collect canned goods for other children who are in need.
As people filed out of the church, I couldn't help wondering whether anyone will now take up the torch that he has lit, and continue the good work he has begun.
Yesterday, I met with the family of Edgar Burton, who is famous in these parts for just doing what we all should do. Some people marvel at what he accomplished in his short life (some 57 years among mortals) especially in favor of the poor and the neglected of this city, but I like to think that he did just what he was supposed to do, just what we all are supposed to do.
Today, as we celebrated his funeral, I spoke about just that: how we are all called to imitate Jesus in feeding the hungry (we used the gospel story of the feeding of the 5000 as the gospel today), even if that means giving away everything we have (for another reference, we took the story of the widow of Zarephath). In the case of this guy, he put his money where his mouth was too. He invited his co-workers to contribute one can of food for the needy of the city, and each year for 10 years or so, he asked for 'just one more can'. As it turns out, he gave birth to one of the most successful food campaigns in Canada, and in the last year or so has branched out to invite school children to collect canned goods for other children who are in need.
As people filed out of the church, I couldn't help wondering whether anyone will now take up the torch that he has lit, and continue the good work he has begun.
Friday, July 9, 2010
What's up?
This morning, I happened to drop into the bank to take care of some business. I usually stop at the ATM machines and do most of what I need to do there. Today was no exception.
I hadn't even given a thought though to the fact that there were not that many people in the bank when I arrived. Perhaps I've gotten used to not seeing too many customers waiting, so imagine my surprise when I turned away from the ATM, having completed my transactions, to find a line of people that seemed literally endless, all waiting to use the machines.
I couldn't help wondering whether this plethora of humanity was waiting to withdraw or to deposit. Could it be that somehow this was tied to the fact that just last night, the union representing more than 3000 nickel miners in this city finally ratified a deal, after almost a year of being on strike?
I've heard from a few of the families involved and they certainly seem to be breathing a sigh of relief. Certainly, the bargaining unit didn't get everything they had hoped for, but then again who ever does in situations like this? Regardless, over the next six weeks or so, miners will be returning to work. What's passed is passed; we cannot change that. What is to come will be revelatory about who we have become as a result.
I hadn't even given a thought though to the fact that there were not that many people in the bank when I arrived. Perhaps I've gotten used to not seeing too many customers waiting, so imagine my surprise when I turned away from the ATM, having completed my transactions, to find a line of people that seemed literally endless, all waiting to use the machines.
I couldn't help wondering whether this plethora of humanity was waiting to withdraw or to deposit. Could it be that somehow this was tied to the fact that just last night, the union representing more than 3000 nickel miners in this city finally ratified a deal, after almost a year of being on strike?
I've heard from a few of the families involved and they certainly seem to be breathing a sigh of relief. Certainly, the bargaining unit didn't get everything they had hoped for, but then again who ever does in situations like this? Regardless, over the next six weeks or so, miners will be returning to work. What's passed is passed; we cannot change that. What is to come will be revelatory about who we have become as a result.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
From la Mancha to Panama
After quite some time of not having heard any news, I received a welcome correspondence today from a friend of mine who is in Panama. In addition to his greeting, he sent links to an online publication entitled La Estrella (The Star). They recently published an article about my friend entitled The Apostolic Nuncio, Ambassador of Panamanian Luxury, and of course he wanted to share the good news.
In addition, he also forwarded a link to the video coverage of an interview he did for Panamanian television (now posted on YouTube) in which he plays a high-profile tour guide, pointing out some of the must-see sights of Panama City.
As always, he looks very happy, and proud to show off the country to the rest of the world.
Bravo cuerido amigo.
In addition, he also forwarded a link to the video coverage of an interview he did for Panamanian television (now posted on YouTube) in which he plays a high-profile tour guide, pointing out some of the must-see sights of Panama City.
As always, he looks very happy, and proud to show off the country to the rest of the world.
Bravo cuerido amigo.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
On priesthood
I'm still uncovering some hidden treasures. After all, it's summer, and the 'slower' pace is permitting me some time to get to the bottom of the pile (or at least part of it).
Under one of the heaps, I discovered a link to a video that was published this past year by the Vatican Congregation for Clergy, on the subject of priests.
Centered on the life of St. John Vianney, the topics covered range from the Priestly Identity to the Sacraments, from Celibacy to the Mission. The video is included in 5 languages: English, Portuguese, Spanish, French, Italian, and German.
The video includes interviews with: Cardinal Cláudio Hummes, Prefect of the Congregation for the Clergy, Cardinal Antonio Cañizares, Prefect of the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments, Cardinal Julian Herranz, President of the Disciplinary Commission of the Roman Curia, Archbishop Mauro Piacenza, Secretary of the Congregation for the Clergy, Abbot Michael John Zielinski, Vice-President of the Commission for the Cultural Heritage of the Church, Monsignor Guido Marini, Pontifical Master of Ceremonies, and many others.
Oh, you'd better set aside about 30 minutes to watch the video.
Under one of the heaps, I discovered a link to a video that was published this past year by the Vatican Congregation for Clergy, on the subject of priests.
Centered on the life of St. John Vianney, the topics covered range from the Priestly Identity to the Sacraments, from Celibacy to the Mission. The video is included in 5 languages: English, Portuguese, Spanish, French, Italian, and German.
The video includes interviews with: Cardinal Cláudio Hummes, Prefect of the Congregation for the Clergy, Cardinal Antonio Cañizares, Prefect of the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments, Cardinal Julian Herranz, President of the Disciplinary Commission of the Roman Curia, Archbishop Mauro Piacenza, Secretary of the Congregation for the Clergy, Abbot Michael John Zielinski, Vice-President of the Commission for the Cultural Heritage of the Church, Monsignor Guido Marini, Pontifical Master of Ceremonies, and many others.
Oh, you'd better set aside about 30 minutes to watch the video.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
To the top
On Wednesday of this week, the Holy Father published a plethora of nominations, including a Canadian. Marc Cardinal Ouellet, until now the Archbishop of Quebec (which makes him the Primate of Canada) has now been elevated to the post of Prefect of the Congregation for Bishops, the highest ranking level that any Canadian has ever held in the Vatican to date.
Considering the microscope that the Church has been living under for so many years, and the morale of some which has resulted, it's good news indeed for a change. The interesting thing will now be to see how things shake out.
Cardinal Ouellet now has three months to pack his things, to close up any files he needs to in Quebec and then to make his way back to Rome before assuming his new post (probably in time for the Holy Father's return from summer vacation).
Considering the microscope that the Church has been living under for so many years, and the morale of some which has resulted, it's good news indeed for a change. The interesting thing will now be to see how things shake out.
Cardinal Ouellet now has three months to pack his things, to close up any files he needs to in Quebec and then to make his way back to Rome before assuming his new post (probably in time for the Holy Father's return from summer vacation).
Calls in the middle of the night
It doesn't happen often, but every once in a while there is an emergency that summons me to the hospital in the dark hours when most of the (local) world seems to be slumbering.
In this case, I was still deep in the throws of getting caught up with friends when my phone rang. Result: I had to leave the reverie and make my way to the hospital. Most of the other patients were well bedded down for the night, but the staff were still busy about their routines.
I wonder whether the person I went to visit will ever know that I was there, but then again, that's not important. What is of note is the faith of his companions (his neighbours I'm told) who spoke with him earlier in the day (or was it the evening) and determined that he was ok with them calling me in. The rest we leave in God's hands.
In this case, I was still deep in the throws of getting caught up with friends when my phone rang. Result: I had to leave the reverie and make my way to the hospital. Most of the other patients were well bedded down for the night, but the staff were still busy about their routines.
I wonder whether the person I went to visit will ever know that I was there, but then again, that's not important. What is of note is the faith of his companions (his neighbours I'm told) who spoke with him earlier in the day (or was it the evening) and determined that he was ok with them calling me in. The rest we leave in God's hands.
'Tis the season
'Tis the season .... for weddings, that is, and it seems this year that the majority of people have chosen July for their nuptials, not that there aren't other dates booked, but whereas there are still some 'gaps' in the schedule for other months, July is fully booked.
Evidence yesterday's happenings. As it happens, there was a wedding here yesterday afternoon, but there was also another wedding at the church next door (and that doesn't always happen). Apparently there was at least one guest who got turned around and ended up inside our establishment before he (or she) discovered that the wedding he (or she) was looking for was not here, but next door.
Was it a coincidence or not that I just happened to know both couples, so while I was present at one wedding, I was also invited to both receptions. My rule of thumb: the first one who asks, I usually accept. So it was that I was present at one wedding ceremony and at another reception dinner, where I actually caught up with some friends who I haven't seen for a number of years. We had a wonderful time, chatting and catching up about people, places and things.
Since there are two gift openings today, which one should I seek out?
Evidence yesterday's happenings. As it happens, there was a wedding here yesterday afternoon, but there was also another wedding at the church next door (and that doesn't always happen). Apparently there was at least one guest who got turned around and ended up inside our establishment before he (or she) discovered that the wedding he (or she) was looking for was not here, but next door.
Was it a coincidence or not that I just happened to know both couples, so while I was present at one wedding, I was also invited to both receptions. My rule of thumb: the first one who asks, I usually accept. So it was that I was present at one wedding ceremony and at another reception dinner, where I actually caught up with some friends who I haven't seen for a number of years. We had a wonderful time, chatting and catching up about people, places and things.
Since there are two gift openings today, which one should I seek out?
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Don't sweat the small stuff
Customer service is not quite as easy as it might first appear. Take for instance my journey this afternoon to the local hospital. I take my turn every week on call for sacramental emergencies, so when I received the call this afternoon to visit with a patient, it wasn't long before I was on my way.
Protocols abound in places such as hospitals. Where should clergy and other volunteers park when they arrive? What procedures should we follow so that we can be easily identified by hospital staff? Where can we go in the hospital and where should we not tread? Who should we speak to in case an unforeseen circumstance comes about? All the little things that people lying in the hospital beds should never find out about.
So it happened that today I made my way to the waiting patient and the family who were there as well. Sacraments themselves don't take an abundance of time to celebrate (understanding the profundity of what we are doing is another question altogether), so before the gathered family members were more than barely aware that I was there, I was gone. I continue to pray today for safe passage for the one who must return home, but my 'adventure' at the hospital was just beginning.
According to the established protocol, clergy are supposed to check in with security when we are leaving the premises. The guard will then arrange to open the gate of the parking area to let us out. As it happened today, all but one of the security guards were occupied with another emergency, so this person had to wait until the first emergency had been dealt with ... a period of only about 15 minutes (but 15 minutes can seem like an eternity sometimes).
Trying to understand the predicament that the security people must have been in, I chose then to watch the parade of figures who were entering and exiting the hospital (better to distract my mind rather than to become too obsessed with the fact that I was being detained. Besides, these are often moments of grace when we learn a bit about stepping back and giving thanks that God is God, and we are not.
Eventually, my 'companion' appeared, complete with a set of keys, ready to remove all barriers from my escape route (or so I thought). As it turns out, the guard who was sitting at the control desk should have called another department and asked one of the ER security personnel to let me out of the parking lot. Off I went, to await his imminent arrival ... or so I thought. Eventually, patience wore thin and I ended up just paying the exit fee.
Remind me why I love the administrative layers!
Protocols abound in places such as hospitals. Where should clergy and other volunteers park when they arrive? What procedures should we follow so that we can be easily identified by hospital staff? Where can we go in the hospital and where should we not tread? Who should we speak to in case an unforeseen circumstance comes about? All the little things that people lying in the hospital beds should never find out about.
So it happened that today I made my way to the waiting patient and the family who were there as well. Sacraments themselves don't take an abundance of time to celebrate (understanding the profundity of what we are doing is another question altogether), so before the gathered family members were more than barely aware that I was there, I was gone. I continue to pray today for safe passage for the one who must return home, but my 'adventure' at the hospital was just beginning.
According to the established protocol, clergy are supposed to check in with security when we are leaving the premises. The guard will then arrange to open the gate of the parking area to let us out. As it happened today, all but one of the security guards were occupied with another emergency, so this person had to wait until the first emergency had been dealt with ... a period of only about 15 minutes (but 15 minutes can seem like an eternity sometimes).
Trying to understand the predicament that the security people must have been in, I chose then to watch the parade of figures who were entering and exiting the hospital (better to distract my mind rather than to become too obsessed with the fact that I was being detained. Besides, these are often moments of grace when we learn a bit about stepping back and giving thanks that God is God, and we are not.
Eventually, my 'companion' appeared, complete with a set of keys, ready to remove all barriers from my escape route (or so I thought). As it turns out, the guard who was sitting at the control desk should have called another department and asked one of the ER security personnel to let me out of the parking lot. Off I went, to await his imminent arrival ... or so I thought. Eventually, patience wore thin and I ended up just paying the exit fee.
Remind me why I love the administrative layers!
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