Decree of modification

Here's the second part of the decrees.  They should be read in tandem, and considered integrally connected, even though they exist as two separate documents:

Greetings and blessings in the Lord
To all those who will read this decree, we inform that:

WHEREAS the Code of Canon Law gives the Diocesan Bishop alone the right 'to establish, supress or alter parishes' after having consulted the Council of Priests, and this, in accordance with canon 515, paragraph 2;


WHEREAS the Council of Priests has already been consulted regarding the procedure to be followed in this regard during its regular meeting;


WHEREAS the Bishop has proceeded by decree dated this same day to suppress the parish of Holy Trinity in the City of Greater Sudbury, Ontario;

We the undersigned Bishop of Sault Ste. Marie, by virtue of our pastoral charge and by the present decree, erect as a single parish the community of faithful living in the combined territories of the former parishes of Christ the King and Holy Trinity, in the City of Greater Sudbury, Ontario.

This territory will henceforth form the modified parish of Christ the King with a second place of worship under the name of Holy Trinity.   This parish will remain under the title of Christ the King, whose Solemnity is celebrated on the last Sunday of the Liturgical Year.

This parish will enjoy full rights and the juridical personality of a parish, with all the rights and obligations of a parish according to Canon Law.  The said parish will have as its places of worship, the churches known as Christ the King situated at 21 Ste-Anne Road and Holy Trinity situated at 426 Burton Avenue, both in the City of Greater Sudbury.

In addition, by this same decree, We name Reverend Father Anthony Man-Son-Hing, pastor of the said parish, granting him all the faculties, powers, rights and privileges proper to his office by virtue of the directives of Canon Law, the Diocesan statutes and the customs legitimately approved in the Diocese.

The present decree will take effect January 1, 2011, on the solemnity of Mary, the Holy Mother of God, and will be read and published at all Sunday masses celebrated in the parish church of Christ the King and place of worship of Holy Trinity on December 26, 2010, Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

May the Lord grant graces and blessings to the faithful and pastor of this modified parish of Christ the King.

Given at Sudbury, under Our signature, the seal of the Diocese and the signature of the Auxiliary Bishop on this eighth day of December, on the solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary, in the Year of Our Lord two thousand and ten.

+Jean-Louis Plouffe
Bishop of Sault Ste. Marie

+Noel Simard, Vicar General
Auxiliary Bishop

Decree of suppression

Here's the first of the two relevant Decrees published this past weekend.  It's called a Decree of Suppression because before creating the newly-established parish, the existing one needs to be canonically closed:

Greetings and blessings in the Lord
To all those who will read this decree, we inform that:

WHEREAS the Code of Canon Law gives the Diocesan Bishop alone the right 'to establish, suppress or alter parishes' after having 'consulted the Council of Priests', and this, in accordance with canon 515, paragraph 2;

WHEREAS the faithful of the territorial parishes concerned after having been consulted recognize the good to be gained by regrouping the resources of the parish communities of Holy Trinity and Christ the King, in the City of Greater Sudbury;

WHEREAS the Council of Priests has already been consulted regarding the procedure to be followed in this regard during its regular meeting;

We, the undersigned, Bishop of Sault Ste. Marie, by the present disposition, after much reflection, consultation and prayer, and with no other reason than for the pastoral good of those concerned, decree the suppression of the Parish of Holy Trinity, erected August 25, 1936 and the modification of the Parish of Christ the King, erected September 26, 1917 in order to facilitate the regrouping of the Catholic faithful who live within the territory which formerly comprised the parochial communities of Holy Trinity and Christ the King.

The present decree will take effect on January 1, 2011, the Solemnity of Mary, the Holy Mother of God and will be read and published at all Sunday masses in the above mentioned parishes on December 26, 2010, Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

May the Lord grant abundant graces and blessings to the faithful and to the pastors of Holy Trinity and Christ the King.

Given at Sudbury, under Our signature, the seal of the Diocese and the signature of the Auxiliary Bishop on this eighth day of December, the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary in the Year of Our Lord two thousand and ten.

+Jean-Louis Plouffe
Bishop of Sault Ste. Marie

+Noel Simard, Vicar General
Auxiliary Bishop

Three days and counting

There's been a bit of silence these past few days, and I'm hoping still for a bit more of said silence.  It does the body well, and the spirit too.  However, out of silence come some good things from time to time ... or in this case, some information about things to come in the next few days.

Six months ago or so, the Bishop of our diocese (he's the boss) published the most recent list of details pertaining to parish re-organization in our diocese.  In other parts of the diocese, there are a number of other parishes which are being closed and-or combined with other neighboring parishes.  Ours is one of those, and this past weekend, in accordance with the Bishop's request, we published two decrees relative to at least two of the parishes involved.

In all such cases, there are certain procedures that must be followed, and in the case of Church structures, the rules are known as the Code of Canon Law.  These rules say that a Bishop has the right to establish and close any parishes operating within the geographic territory of his diocese, provided that he follows the prescribed rules.  This past weekend, we published the Bishop's decrees in our parish bulletin, so I'd like to share them (complete with all the legal-eze).

Needless to say, in some cases these changes cause more anxt than in others.  Until now, there are some who have questions about this particular situation, but we'll have to see what happens as days turn into weeks, months and ...

It's Christmas!

Merry Christmas everyone.  Finally the day is here.  As you may have guessed, I didn't write a formal homily for Christmas Eve: the children did a wonderful job of directing my thoughts toward the true meaning of gift, and especially the reality that gifts come in packages of various makings, and seem to arrive by means of a whole bunch of different experiences.  Would that we could all have the eyes of children, and the honesty to speak what we see!

Here then is the adult version, perhaps a little less magical but nonetheless offered for consideration:

Real giving
 
What’s Christmas all about?  Children learn about this festival, first as a time for magic, for the receiving of gifts … but as adults, we learn (some of us more slowly than others) that the true beauty of this festival has more to do with giving than with receiving.

This is a time for looking back at the year that was, for celebrating our achievements, for thanking God first of all for the blessings we have received.  This is a time to recognize how blessed we are in so many ways.

This year, Canadians look back at the year that was and give thanks for the gift of sport which was celebrated in the Olympic Games in Vancouver earlier this year.  We also give thanks for the gift of our families and friends, for the gift of being able to celebrate our faith, for the gift of fortune that is ours, in whatever way it has come to us.

We also look back at this year and recognize the many ways that faith has been present in our world.  This faith has allowed many to overcome great suffering in places such as Port-au-Prince, Haiti and parts of Chile where our brothers and sisters have had the misfortune of facing major changes in their lives.  This faith has also been the source of inspiration for others of our brothers and sisters in places like the Gulf of Mexico where oil spills caused major ecological imbalance and harm earlier this year, and in places where there is war and discord throughout our world like Afghanistan and North Korea.

Tonight we have listened once again to the story of our Saviour’s birth, but have we truly appreciated the gift that was offered to us so many centuries ago, that is still offered to us today?  God, the creator of all things, chose to become one of us, a supreme gift of ultimate love, in order to show us the depth of his love.  He did this because love drives us to demand more of ourselves, to dream big, to reach beyond our own capabilities in order to bring about good for those we love.

God’s love for us has brought light into the midst of our darkness.  Because he chose to give of himself, we have the example of ultimate love, and therefore we can love all the more.  Because he has faith in us, the fruit of his creation, we too can have faith even in the face of tragedy.  Yet, try as we might, we can only glimpse shadows of the love that is offered for us.

On a night like this, we listen to the words that speak to us of a gift of ultimate grace, we hear once again the story of a people who once walked in darkness, but do we truly believe that this good news, proclaimed to us by a child born in a stable, is true?  We must believe this.  We must because God has entrusted this joyful news to us, and asks us to share it with others.  Ours is the task of passing on the word through our own belief, through our deeds of mercy, through our willingness to make a difference.

Our world experiences more than its fair share of trial.  This year, dare to be a sign of hope, a sign of love, a bearer of good tidings and joy.  Imagine how much our world needs such good news, and imagine what a different place it would be if it actually believed.  Merry Christmas!

Children in the lead

The first Mass of Christmas was both wonderful and challenging.

Wonderful because there were children present.  Along with their families, some of these little ones led all the music, including the guitarist and the violinists who proved to be very accomplished musicians.  They even had to lead the way at some points so that the poor pastor would know where he was!

Family members all crowded in to witness the spectacle.  After all, it's not every day that children get to lead us, although it probably should.

In the end, the kids did wonderfully.  It was more of a challenge though for the adults, at least those of us who had to rely on the modern marvels of technology.  The newly installed portable microphones both decided to work but only if it suited them, and this meant that for most of the time we had to rely more on the power of our diaphragms for projection.

This feeling of utter confusion was probably more what it was like that holy night, and still miracles happened.  Why would it not be possible for blessings to be showered even when things seemed so out of control?

At the ready

Well, all the pieces are in place (I think).  The poinsettias are arranged, the figures in the crèche have all been placed, the lights are on the trees, and the ornaments have been hung in the Remembrance Tree.  Now all that remains is for the people to show up.

Was it like this in Bethlehem so many years ago?  I wonder whether they even had time to think about what they packed before Mary boarded the donkey and they trod their way t the city of David.

Preparing the Remembrance Tree

Ideas are great!  They abound in some cases, and this is indeed a good thing.  New ideas bring new opportunities for life to be celebrated, and this place is certainly no stranger to new ideas.

Last year at this time, I started sending a letter to all the families with which we had celebrated a funeral during the previous year ... just a little way of letting them know that we haven't forgotten about them.  Christmas can be a difficult time for those who are mourning.

This year, we will introduce what I'm calling a Remembrance Tree.  Over the past year, we have celebrated baptisms, weddings and funerals.  We have helped little ones to discover the mercy of forgiveness and the ultimate gift of the Eucharist.  All these moments (and there were a fair number of them since January 1) will be commemorated this year.

There's a tree set up not far from the manger scene.  This tree will hold particularly chosen ornaments for every baptism, for every child who celebrated First Reconciliation and First Eucharist this year, for every young adult who confirmed his or her faith here,  for every couple who celebrated their weddings here, for every soul who has been reunited with our God, and for whom we celebrated a funeral here.

As of tonight, the ornaments are now ready.  Each one bears the name of one of those who has celebrated with us, and when the Christmas festivities are complete, individuals and their families will be invited to take these tokens home with them.

Life in the face of new life

I've spoken before in this forum about the Hospice in this community.  It's been operating for quite some time now, but only recently have I had occasion to interact.  From time to time, I visit with some of the residents, especially when they are among the parishioners who pray with us in this Christian community, but from time to time, I do visit at the Hospice for other reasons.

This week, at the invitation of the staff, I asked a friend to accompany me as we celebrated a Mass with the residents who are currently there.  This is the second time we've done this, and like all other occasions when we enter those doors, the experience is as rewarding if not more so for us than it is for the residents.

Because those who are resident there are facing some serious questions about life and life hereafter, they have little if any time for small talk, but this is also a place of peace: a place where the worries of the outside world can be left behind, perhaps because when one is resident at a hospice, the worries of the world pale by comparison with the truths about coming to peace with others.

I once heard an elderly man describe his perception about the end of earthly life not so much as something to be feared, as a moment for which we wait, for which we have been waiting our entire lives.  This is not something to be afraid of, but rather something to be celebrated.  What a wonderful lesson for the head and the heart.

Christmas for others

Christmas time is most difficult for some: those who are economically challenged, those who are mourning, those who are lonely, to name a few.

This year, we invited people in this community to consider reaching out to the elderly in our city.  They are often the ones who may be forgotten by families otherwise swept up in reverie.  When we first put out the invitation to take a tag from the giving tree that was set up, and to purchase a gift which would be forwarded to its intended recipient, the response was overwhelming.

These are difficult times for many, but Christmas seems to bring out the best in us.  As it turns out, we had to replenish the tree three times, and three times the tags all disappeared.  In all, some 53 elderly in this community will benefit this year from the generosity that has been demonstrated: and this is just one of many places that are focused on the needs of others at this time of year.  What a wonderful testimony to our commitment to others.

On behalf of those whose Christmas has been brightened, thank you to those who responded so generously.

Little ones preparing

Last night, there was an invasion.  This time the adults took a back seat and let their little ones take over the spotlight ... well, not all the adults.

Actually, we're planning something a bit different for this year's Christmas Eve Mass with children and families.  We've invited not only the children to sing in the choir, but their parents as well.  We've also invited some newcomers to join them, and have introduced a few multi-lingual parts to some of the hymns that will be sung.

Last night, everyone was here to do a dress rehearsal of sorts.  The guitarist (who is a high-school student) and the violinists (who are both elementary school students) added their strains to those of the two dozen or so who will make up the choir, and the little ones tried on their angel costumes (all things must be just so, no?).  Little details about the music had to be sorted out so that all will run as smoothly as possible when the big night arrives.

Now that this revision is complete, we're all ready to go ...

Never too late

Here is this week's installment, a reflection on the remaining days of the Advent period.  Hope you enjoy it.

Never too late

The hours are slipping by.  In just a few days, it will all be over for another year.  The emphasis in today's liturgy is on the imminence of Christmas, the nearness of Christ's birthday.  'The young woman is with child,' the first reading tells us, 'and shall bear a son' (Is 7:14).  'As Christmas draws near,' says the prayer after Communion, 'make us grow in faith and love to celebrate the coming of our Saviour.'  The Church tells us that Advent is a season of preparation, but I wonder whether we've lost sight of that; and if we have, is there anything we can do to remedy the situation, even at this late date?  I think there is, let me explain:

An aquaintance of mine, a priest from Ireland, tells me that when he was a young boy, he remembers a time when there was a devotion during Advent called the 'four thousand Hail Marys'.  The idea was that every child would pray four thousand Hail Marys during Advent, in preparation for Christmas.  This devotion began on the first Sunday of Advent, and all the neighbourhood children would compete to see how quickly they could finish their prayers.  Four thousand Hail Mary's works out to fifteen decades of the rosary every day.  I'm not sure it would work today, and I'm not sure that those who competed even then were really concerned about prayer; it was more of a competition between peers.  Nevertheless, the idea is there: it's never too late for prayer to be effective.

The commercial world will tell us that there are only four more shopping days 'til Christmas, but what if we responded by telling others that there are only four more praying days left?  The best part is that it's not too late to get started.  Even with just four days left, there's still time to say an Our Father here or a Hail Mary there.  Pray it first thing in the morning, before you get out of bed, or while you're in the midst of the morning ablutions.  Pray it last thing at night, as you fall into bed.  Pray it whenever you can.  When it comes to prayer, it's not so much the quantity that counts as the quality with which it's presented.

What else can we do to prepare for Christmas.  Before I make another suggestion, let me ask a few questions: Did we sing or recite a Gloria in today's Mass? No!  What's the colour of the vestments I'm wearing? Purple!  By leaving out the Gloria during Advent, and by putting on the purple, the Church reminds us that Advent is not only a season of expectation and joy, but a season of penance as well.  That's the message that John the Baptist has been screaming about these past few weeks, 'Prepare a way for the Lord, make his paths straight' (Lk 3:4).  Penance comes in a variety of shapes and sizes.  It can involve fasting, self-denial, sacrificing ourselves for others, giving generously to others, especially the poor, forgiving the hurting and bruising that others inflict upon us.  The essence of Penance though is repentance and conversion, turning away from sin and turning back to God.  I'm sure there isn't one of us who during this past year hasn't turned in some way toward sin.  Very often, our turning isn't a malicious choice, it's simply a human inclination.  We're weak and fragile and prone to evil, but it's because God knows our weakness that Christ left us a special sacrament.  Wouldn't it help us to prepare fully for Christmas if we were to avail ourselves of the Sacrament of Penanace, which is brimming over, full to overflowing with the mercy of God?  Don't let it overflow in vain.

Saying goodbye

Here, as promised, is the text of the homily as it was pronounced at the funeral Mass today.  If I find the time in the coming days I'll distribute a translated copy to those who ask for it.

Homélie pour les obsèques de l’Hon. Yvon Renaud

Twelve years ago, I was called to lead the then parishes of St-Ignace and Ste-Croix, located in Sault Ste. Marie.  On the weekend of my arrival, at the end of each of the Masses, I asked the parishioners to be seated so that I could speak with them.  Without a text, I proceeded to explain:

Vous savez bien que l’évêque m’a nommé curé de la paroisse.   Cela veut dire que je suis le patron, mais je suis également un étudiant car ma langue maternelle c’est l’anglais et j’ai appris le français à l’école. Vous savez que je viens tout juste de traverser une période d’immersion mais j’aurai encore besoin de votre aide si jamais je fais des erreurs soit en conjugaisons ou les accords.

C’est Yvon qui a pris le microphone à ce moment, et qui a déclaré :

« M. le curé, au nom de tout les paroissiens et toute les paroissiennes, je vous souhaite la plus cordiale bienvenue.  Pour ce qu’il y en est de vos inquiétudes, ne vous en faites pas trop car nous aussi, nous faisons des erreurs de temps en temps ».

Et c’est ainsi qu’a commencé une amitié qui continue jusqu’à ce jour avec Yvon, Lise, leurs enfants et maintenant leurs petits-enfants.  Ensemble nous avons rompu du pain plusieurs fois. Nous avons célébré ensemble des occasions de joie, comme des anniversaires de naissance et des noces; nous avons également connu des moments de tristesse et d’épreuve.  Voici qu’en ce moment, alors que nous devons remettre son âme au Seigneur, il est juste et bon de prendre le temps de rendre grâce pour tout ce que nous avons connu de bon et de bien chez lui.

Yvon is and was always a man of faith.  There has never been anything more important to him than his relationship with God.  What words he uttered in prayer as he knelt in a church, what tribulations and joys he spoke to God about, perhaps none of us can say, but he firmly believed in the profound love that Christ has for us, he celebrated it, he cherished it.

Ceux qui le connaisse s’entendront pour dire qu’il était un homme de conviction et juste, doué de toutes sortes de talents ; il était un homme qui éprouvait autant de plaisir à installer un plancher de bois franc qu’à préparer une pizza le samedi soir; à jouer de la guitare et chanter une chanson de Robert Lebel qu’à conseiller un de ses proches qui devait prendre une décision difficile ou délicate.

Nous qui sommes ici ce matin devons nous compter très chanceux, privilégié même, d’avoir eu l’occasion de cheminer quelque peu sur cette terre avec Yvon.  Rares sont les personnes si intègres, si attentives aux besoins des autres.  Et pourtant, n’est-ce qu’on attend de chacun de nous comme disciples du Maître divin?

Can you imagine what the conversation is like between Yvon and Saint Peter at the gates of heaven?  Who’se asking the questions and who’se answering? 

We who have known his kindness, his generosity, his love and his hospitality are sure that he has fed the hungry many times, that he has shared more than one bottle of beer with those who are thirsty, that he has always sought to welcome visitors, whether they be strangers or life-long friends.  How many times did he clothe the naked, not only those who wanted for physical clothing, but those also who appeared before him in court, scared, ashamed, in need of a compassionate ear or an understanding heart?

Who among us have not known in him the heart of one who would drop almost everything to listen attentively to a story, all the while trying to understand first and foremost the humanity of the situation, and where possible how he could help?

Le jour de son assermentation, ici à Sudbury, je lui ai présenté deux cadeaux : un marteau en bois et une copie du Code du droit canon.  Vous savez, il n’a pas voulu garder le livre, croyant qu’il n’en était pas digne.  Pourtant, je serait prêt à parier qu’il est en train de mettre de l’ordre aux cieux à présent.

Et nous qui restons ici sur cette terre … quelles leçons devons tirer de ce difficile moment?  Quelles sont les grâces offertes à nous afin que nous puissions tout de même vivre ce moment avec plénitude?  Je vous propose de puiser conseil dans le livre de la Sagesse qui nous rassure ainsi : « Grâce à sa foi et à son espérance, Yvon a déjà accès à l’immortalité ».  En ce qui nous concerne, il ne nous reste qu’à mettre notre confiance dans le Seigneur afin d’y trouver la vérité, la grâce et la miséricorde.

Busy preparing

Sorry for the apparent absence.  You may remember me writing about my friend, the one who was diagnosed with the brain tumor ... well he finally went to God last Saturday, and we've been preparing for his funeral ever since.  The text of the homily will be posted as of Saturday.  Watch for it.

Listen in

Ok, thanks to the wonders of technology, the podcast version of this past weekend's homily is now available.  Just click here (if you can).  Happy listening.

What shall I give?

As promised, here is the text copy of my reflection for this weekend, the third Sunday of Advent (Year A).  As always, you can check out the podcast version, or just read the text below:

What shall I give?
On the western coast of Israel, not that far from the city of Jerusalem is the port city of Haifa. It's a sprawling metropolis that speaks loudly not only of the prosperity it now enjoys, but of a place of promenence that it has known for centuries. Haifa is the gateway between the Mediterranian Sea and the trading routes toward the orient. It is also located in one of the most fertile areas of the country. Within the vicinity lies the Ofer forest, one of only a few wooded areas in the whole country, and within the Ofer forest is the majestic Mount Carmel: yes the very Carmel that is spoken of in today's first reading.


In a land which is mostly desert, a forest is truly a sign of prosperity, but forests are fragile things. Just a few weeks ago, there was a fire set in the Ofer forest, burning away some of the precious vegetation. We here in Canada are no strangers to forest fires, but because of the abundance of our forests, we may find it difficult to understand the impact of such devastation in a country where all is precious, or can we? People who have very little often teach some valuable lessons to those who have much. Those who have known such a long history of cherishing their trees can and do speak eloquently to those of us who pay little attention to our own treasures.

For many of us, these weeks of Advent are a struggle between trying to find time to understand the lessons of the scriptures, and trying to get all the physical preparations done in time for Christmas. As the next weeks unravel, our shopping malls will become more and more busy as at least some of us will become more and more frantic about finding the right gifts to give to friends and family. The statistics gurus tell us that the average family will spend $1000 on Christmas presents, and credit card companies love this time of year.

In contrast to all this frenzy and the apparent confidence portrayed in all the advertising we see, the scriptures today present us once again with the figure of John the Baptist. Last week, he was standing in the waters of the Jordan, calling out boldly for repentance, but this week, his words are spoken from behind bars, and there is a definite tinge of doubt as he sends his disciples to ask Jesus, 'Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?' You see, ever since the time Elijah prophecied from that cave atop Mount Carmel, John's people had waited for the promised Messiah. The intervening years have not always been kind, so it is understandable that they should be on the lookout for one who would free them from tyrany.

Perhaps we too have pre-conceived notions about the tyrany we live with, about the things from which we need to be freed. Perhaps like John and his companions, we too have difficulty identifying the freedoms that Jesus came to proclaim, or believing in the miracles we see right before our eyes. Like the crowds who listened to Jesus, perhaps we too should ask ourselves, 'What is it that we expect to see this Christmas? Who are we waiting for?' The answer might surprise us, because I'm willing to bet it will have little to do with the content of our shopping carts.

In the midst of our shopping for others, let's take a moment this week to consider the gift we would offer to Jesus. What would it look like? Remember that Jesus was a little boy who lived in Nazareth, an out-of-the-way place. He and his family were among the forgotten of society, the ones who had little time for empty promises, the ones who promised only that which they could deliver. In the words of the second reading, he too is patient as he waits for us to decide about the gift we want to offer, but once we make up our minds, he is counting on us to fulfill our promise. Don't let him down.

Gone Home

The news arrived at the door this morning, because I was busy in the kitchen while my phone was in another part of the house.

Even after I'd spoken to his brother and wife, and heard the news from them myself, it still took a while to sink in.  The battle is over.  He's gone Home.  To be honest, I kind of knew that he wouldn't wait for a long time, and there wasn't much hope of him regaining his consciousness, so this moment had to come at some time.  Funny, no matter how well the brain knows this, when it happens there are always tears.

I know that he has been at peace for some time now (thanks to all the medication the doctors were administering to keep him from seisuring, he appeared to be sleeping), but life will not be easy for his wife, for their children who have lost their husband and father far too soon.

In the coming days, many will gather, and each will do a part to assist in whatever way we can.  All who knew him in this life need now to bid adieu, and to trust that somewhere in heaven, he is whole again, that he is celebrating his birthday with his papa, and that he is playing a wonderful tune.

Lining them up

It took a bit more than an hour and a half, but we finally managed to get them all in order.  No, they are not ducks, but rather the boxes of envelopes that are distributed to parishioners every year at this time of the year.

For the second year in a row, the boxes of envelopes have been labeled and sorted in alpahbetical order.  They are now all sitting ready and waiting for their intended owners to claim them.  The specifics about how the boxes of envelopes get distributed varies depending on the parish.  In this case, the practice (up until last year) was to just put them all out in the church and let people pick them up.  There's only one problem with this apprach. A fair number of the regulars want their envelopes (that means a specific envelope number) and they'll stop at nothing to get them (including churning through all the boxes until they find what they're looking for).

In an attempt to establish a somewhat more orderly system of distribution, I suggested last year that we try to alphabetize the envelopes, assigning the same numbers if possible to families and individuals who were registered users this past year.  It worked, but as always there were other suggestions to improve the process, so this year will be yet another experiment.  From this point of view, it seems that we've caught a few other snags, and the process should work out relatively well.

Once the people arrive to pick them up, our theories will be tested, and we'll see whether or not we meet with success.

With students

Two days, two schools worth of children.

Yesterday, we welcomed the students from a nearby High School.  They came to celebrate the Eucharist with us at our regularly scheduled daily Mass.  By the time the students had found their seats, and the staff members had joined them, there were not many extra seats to be had.  Any that might have been vacant were taken by the 'regulars' who are here to celebrate Mass.

Students at this particular high school have recently established a multi-cultural group among their students.  These were the ones who took a leadership role in organizing this liturgy.  They prayed the psalm in various languages (English, French, Spanish and Italian), while others prepared the musical parts of this gatheirng.

Students aren't used to entering a church, so it takes some time, lots of patience and constant guidance to get them used to the established culture that exists inside our walls, but then again if any of us were to set foot within the walls of their school, would we be any different?

***
As it turns out, only one day later, we also welcomed the students from one of the local elementary schools.  A much smaller and younger group, they too are part of the fabric of this place, so it was wonderful to see them here.

Children of all ages need the guidance of the adults in their lives to teach them about the faith tradition that sets us apart.  For those who are involved in this process, we give thanks today.  Recognizing the call for all of us to play a part in educating our young people, we each have a task ahead of us.  The question is, 'are we willing to accept the challenge'?

For nascent life

For some years now, there is a special Mass celebrated every year on December 8, a moment to pray for the protection of life, especially for those who are unborn.  This year, the Holy Father asked all Bishops throughout the world to join him at the beginning of Advent in praying for the unborn, so our local Ordinary (that's the official title for the Diocesan Bishop) decided to organize a series of Masses, all of which would be celebrated at (roughly) the same time.

Last night was the night, so at 7:00 pm local time, Mass began in the Pro-Cathedral in North Bay and in the Church of St. Jerome in Sault Ste. Marie.  For some reason, the decision was made that the Mass in Sudbury (which took place here) would begin 30 minutes later.

Parishioners from all parishes across the region were invited.  A composite choir made up of voices from various parts of the region was also present, and a good number of the priests from the city came to celebrate this first-ever Mass for nascent life held in the city.

Yes the liturgy was beautiful, but more than this, the importance of this moment is found in the words spoken between the human heart and the divine.  We heard the words spoken with human voices.  We heard the music created by human hands, but we don't have ears to hear the celestial choir (yet) nor can we interpret the collective conversation that takes place between the human soul and the ever-present, ever-loving Creator.

Walking with the dying

After the catastrophe that happened last night, today was a totally different day.  I visited this afternoon with an elderly parishioner and this was indeed a moment of blessing.  Let me explain first a bit of background.

A few months ago, the parish Liturgy committee agreed to add a new wrinkle to the established practice of inviting parishioners to contribute gifts during Advent for those in need.  For many years now, we have conducted a campaign focusing on knitted garments for children, but this year we chose to turn our attention to the elderly of the parish.  It's amazing to see how well the response to this invitaiton is going.  We have identified a number of parishioners who are either sick or alone and will share some of our blessings (hopefully) with them this year.

One such gentleman is currently resident in the local hospice.  I've gotten to know him (and his wife) over the past number of months, and discovered earlier this year that they were both transferrred to the hospice because they were both suffering from grave illness.  His wife has since returned Home, but his journey is not yet complete.  I'm told that it won't be long though, so I chose today to visit with him and to deliver his Christmas gift from our parish a few days in advance of Christmas.  As I stood at his bedside, others from the nursing staff and his sister also gathered around.  He was not strong enough to open the gift I presented, but asked others to help.  I'm sure he was happy (at least he was very courteous and generous with his expressions of gratitude for our gift).

I couldn't help thinking that it's quite probable that he won't be on this side of the curtain in just a few days time, and this was very possibly the best gift we could have offered to him.  I know that this encounter was already a wonderful Christmas gift for me.  I blessed him as I left, not quite sure whether we will meet again in this world ... maybe.

Getting old?

Have you ever had one of those days where things just don't seem to go well?

Last night turned out to be one of those.  I had all great intentions of showing up (as promised) at one of the local parishes to help with the penitential service that was planned.  There was only one problem, I wasn't too sure which one of the local parishes it was.  I had indeed written all the details in my agenda, and normally this is enough, but on this particular occasion, I didn't have access to the electronic agenda that sometimes rules my life, and I had left my cell phone lying on the desk as well (right next to the computer upon which my agenda is logged).

Needless to say, I had to rely on my memory, which these days is not always such a good idea.  The result: I went racing off to the parish where I thought the gathering was scheduled, only to find the entire building in darkness.  Even as I returned to the car (yes, I'd even gotten out to go inside before resigning myself to the fact that I wasn't in the right place), I began to think about where it was that I needed to be.  To make a long story a bit shorter, by the time the wild goose chase was over, I'd visited three of the area parishes, finding all the buildings in relative darkness.  Having then to rely on the fact that Jesus was home but no one else was to be found in those places, I returned to my own abode, checked the electronic calendar, and discovered that I had indeed visited a bunch of places, but not the right one.

I wonder if other people have days like this.

Back issues

While I remember, and for those who don't know about them, text copies (and podcast copies in most cases) of the homilies from the past four years or so are also available.  You'll find them in the Pastor's Pen section of the website for the Church of Christ the King.

A note of caution: sometimes that site is a bit tired, thus the reason for the posts beginning with the season of Advent this year.

Happy reading.

Most unlikely sources

While we're at it, here is a copy of this week's reflection. 

Most unlikely of sources
is based on the scripture texts proper to the Second Sunday of the Advent Season (Year A, 2010-2011).  In case you're unsure, those texts are Isaiah 11:1-10, Romans 5:4-9 and Matthew 3:1-12.

Listen to this homily


A number of years ago, I came to know a couple who live here in Sudbury.  They had been married for a number of years, but were never able to have children.  Only after having lost her father, and then discovering that her mother was also terminally ill did my friend discover that she was indeed pregnant.  As the months went along, she and her family cared for their dying mother, and all the while, there was a growing sense of joy that finally a miracle had been granted.  Little Isabelle was born two months premature, and it wasn't long before we discovered that she had some rather serious medical complications.  This didn't stop her parents from loving her; in fact they always called her their little miracle.  In subsequent years, Isabelle's brother was born, and until this week, he worshiped his big sister.  Just a few days ago, we learned that little Isabelle, after living six years on this earth has finally returned home.  Anyone who knew her during these past six years will speak about her amazing ability to warm hearts with her radiant smile, or about the many other lessons she taught us: lessons about acceptance, lessons about love, lessons about finding the secret to true happiness.  Kids have a way of cutting through all the worries of life, and concentrating on the things that are essential.  Would that we adults could learn these lessons well.

The most valuable lessons in life often come from the most unlikely sources.  In the first reading today, Isaiah's words paint pictures of a world that sounds like utopia.  It must have sounded like a dream to the Israelites, like a reality that could only exist in a foreign land.  Even here in Canada, despite our abundance and riches, we might be tempted to think that Isaiah must truly have been dreaming when he spoke of a world where mortal enemies will one day sit side by side, where those who are accustomed to competition will one day reach out a helping hand, where adults might just have to lay aside the wisdom of this world and dare to learn a lesson or two from the innocent ways of a child.

All of this sounds like it's too much to hope for, but the words addressed to the Christian community in Rome also challenged them to believe that the impossible could be made possible.  Even in the darkness of despair, a word of encouragement can help us to remember that there is always hope.  In the case of the early Christians, they were asked to remember that our God is steadfast.  Our God sticks to his guns.  Our God will always be there for us.  When this world challenges us to doubt the power of faith, God responds with encouragement for our hearts and our spirits.  This is the best medicine for those times when we might be tempted to think that there is no place in this world for a warm welcome, or that we should give into the temptation to see one another through any filter other than love.

Even the gospel today speaks of unlikely sources.  The Jordan River is not a raging torrent of water.  It is little more than Junction creek, and yet this was the place where John chose to baptise and to call others to repentance.  The baptist himself was not a man of means.  He didn't possess any degrees of higher learning, yet his words spoke with a wisdom far beyond his station.  The power brokers in our world would have us believe that they are the ones who can guarantee our happiness, yet I find it difficult to believe that war and military might can instill anything but a constant sense of fear and foreboding.  Walls, fences and wire do not instill peace, they define limits and territories as silent reminders of might that can too often lead to oppression.  Promises of progress which come from worldly powers too often result in the suffering of innocent souls.  Why is it so difficult for us to believe that God's way is possible?  Is it because we have learned only too well to put our trust in things we can see and touch? Is it because we have allowed ourselves to be seduced by the world around us?

Perhaps it's time to wake from our slumber, to dare to believe in a different kind of promise, to allow ourselves to be led not by promises that cannot be fulfilled, but rather by those that have called to us across the constructs of time with the promise of treasures much more worth our attention.  Perhaps we should look in the unlikely places, and find our hope in the most unexpected of places.

Isabelle's funeral was celebrated today (Saturday).  Unfortunately I was not able to be present, but I know that it was a wonderful occasion of thanksgiving, a gathering where people of faith confided a holy soul back to the loving embrace of our creator.  Isabelle's parents made a conscious choice for life, a choice they and those who knew her will never regret.

Dare to make a difference

A number of years ago, I began recording the texts of my homilies.  Not only that; I also have been making available, podcast copies of these weekly offerings for the on-line crowd.  As it turns out, the website that I've been using for the past four years or so is not always (ehem) reliable, so my next thought is that I can possibly use this space to publish them.  Does that make sense?

Assuming that all will agree, here is the text of the homily from last weekend.  Since this would have been the first one of a new Liturgical Year, I thought it might be fitting to begin here.  In case you might also like to listen to the podcast version, I'll also make that available.  It would be interesting to hear from you about whether this is a suitable place to publish these texts and-or the recorded versions.  I'll look forward to your comments.  Here goes:


Dare to make a difference
This reflection was prepared for and proclaimed as part of the Sunday liturgies during the First Sunday of Advent, Year A (2010-2011).  The scripture texts upon which it is based are those proper to that day: Isaiah 2:1-5; Romans 13:11-14 and Matthew 24:37-44.

Listen to this homily


Advent is the season that marks the beginning of the liturgical year, and as we begin this new year, the first words that we hear from scripture, from the book of the prophet Isaiah, speak of a vision, a dream.  This is not the kind of dream that you have when you're sleeping, from which you wake with very little if any recollection of the details.  This is the kind of dream that you have while you're fully awake, the kind of dream that planners at the top echelons of business dream, the kind of dream that first-time homeowners have, the kind of dream that our new confirmandi had in their eyes as Bishop Simard spoke with them at the time of their Confirmation on Friday night.

Isaiah's dream speaks of peace, something that human beings have sought it seems throughout history, even from the time when we were put out of the Garden of Eden.  We all have our own visions of peace, but I'm not sure that we will find green plants and flowing water fountains in the biblical vision.  Instead, what we find is intentionality.  Isaiah dreams of a time when war will be replaced with a willingness to share the daily chores that make it possible for us to live and of a time when competition will be replaced with a common vision for mutual improvement.  Even today, there are some who would wonder whether such a vision is possible, or whether it is only a pipe dream.

Our world needs visionaries, the ones who dream big.  Otherwise, we would be condemned to an existence that would be confined to a very small scope indeed, but our world also needs committed individuals, willing to work hard so that the big visions can someday come to pass.  The letter to the Romans speaks to us today of some of the practical things that you and I need to do so that God's dream of peace can someday come about.  This Advent season, this new beginning is the time for us to wake from our sleep, to be conscious about laying aside the works of darkness: our willingness to wait and to let someone else worry about our salvation, our willingness to be passive about our faith.  This is the time for us to put on the armour of light: to courageously live our faith with conviction, to be ambassadors of peace, to boldly speak out against injustice, to make a difference in our world.

Jesus' disciples knew only too well that many facets of their lives were controlled by others, that many situations were beyond the scope of their own realm of possibility, but they were drawn to Jesus because he dared to dream about a different kind of world, a world in which his disciples could wake from their slumber and take charge of their lives, where they could allow themselves to be emboldened by faith and courageous enough to take concrete steps toward making peace possible.  We too need to continue this work, to determine the necessary steps, to discover the attitudes we need to adopt, to inform ourselves about the organizations who work for peace and who need our help, to dare to teach the lessons of peace to our friends, our colleagues and our family members.

The beginning of a new year is always a time for resolutions.  This Advent, set a resolution to be conscious about working for peace.  Find one concrete thing that you can do to bring about peace either within yourself or within your own circle of influence.  Jesus dreamed about bringing peace to the whole world, one person at a time.  This work of peacemaking continues today.  He needs us, he needs all of us to make a difference.

What does life look like?

A couple of nights ago, a bishop was here, and thanked me for my efforts to build up this local community.  As I look around, there are many signs of life being breathed into this community:

• Last night, I responded to an invitation to be present with high school students who are living an Antioch weekend experience.  Along with three other priests from this city, we celebrated the Sacrament of God's divine mercy with them.  I hope and pray that our presence has made a difference to them.
• This morning, following the first Mass, there was a parish breakfast in the parish hall.  This is one of a number of social occasions which have been re-kindled in this community over the past couple of years.  Each one provides another opportunity for individuals to interact, and for community to be built.
• Duirng the early liturgy this morning, members of one family all came together to assume various responsibilities during the liturgy.  Father and his youngest son, accompanied by grandparents were present for the lighting of the Advent candle; another son was present to serve at the altar and to proclaim the Prayers of the Faithful; daughter was here too to proclaim the readings, and even mom joined in by leading the recitation of the responsorial psalm and by distributing communion to others of the community.  This may be a first, but hopefully it will show others that they too can get involved.
• When we discovered that there would be no organist present for the later liturgy this morning, one of the choristers volunteered to stay, just to provide some leadership so that songs would be sung, even a capella.

People of faith share their faith in service to others.  Every day is another invitation to respond in love to the possiblity of proclaiming our faith to others.  At times these responses are surprises even to the giver, but always they are opportunities for blessing.

Those who can't

Weekends come quickly, and around here, that means preparing for the celebration of the Eucharist.  This week, as I participated in the Masses, I was aware of the many families and individuals, visitors and residents who were here, but I was also aware of some who weren't.  In particular, I was thinking of my friends who would normally be front and centre every week in the gathering.

I first met them in the Church, and throughout the years of our friendship, faith and prayer have been an integral part of the glue that has held us together.  It seems strange to thnk that they are not present, here or in any church, but then again perhaps they are.  In their case, the church goes to where they are ... at present, in the Civic Hospital in Ottawa.

According to my most recent update, the decision (as difficult as it is) has now been made that my friend will soon be transferred to paliative care.  This decision does not come easily, but considering all the options, and relying on the advice of the medical experts, it would appear that my friend has already beat the odds.  He returned to work after a surgery from which many do not ever regain consciousness.  He regained consciousness after a second surgery, something that not many indeed ever achieve, and now he still appears to have some 'good' days when he can communicate (through a squeeze of the hand) with those who are close.  It appears that he is peaceful, and not suffering even though he has not regained consciousness after the mid-October intervention.

Questions abound, some very difficult questions, for those who must make the decisions now.  Questions also exist for those who must stand by and watch.  At times when it is most difficult to believe based on the story that seems to be unfolding, faith in the promise of resurrection beacons to show the way.

When it isn't possible for people of faith to be present at the table, I wonder whether the table moves to be present where people of faith must gather.

Count the blessings

Two days ago, when we had the final meeting for the children who would celebrate Confirmation tonight, the casual onlooker might very well have wondered about whether or not this group felt even the least bit of unity or alegiance one for another, but if tonight was any indication, these are some wonderful kids who have indeed managed to gel despite the fact that their age groups are varied, and their school alegiances are even more widespread.

It was almost as though the children we have been working with over the last couple of weeks were left outside the building when they arrived for tonight's celebration.  In their place, some truly mature adults came through the doors.  These were the children who were nervous only two days ago about how tonight's gathering would unfold, yet to see them support one another was truly a testament in itself.  They stood patiently and waited their turns to visit with the Bishop who would smear chrism on their foreheads as he uttered the ancient forumla: Be sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit and then continue in very down-to-earth conversation explaining the meaning of their chosen names and their invitation to be witnesses of faith for our world.

At the end of the liturgy, it was time to relax, even as they came forward one by one to proudly take possession of their certificates and to pose for pictures with the Bishop.  A few more pictures with family and friends and it was off to the family parties which were planned for them.

Today they made a major step forward in faith.  Beginning tonight, they now continue to walk in faith, witnessing to the faith they have learned by the love they continue to share with those God puts in their paths.

At the crossroads

Some say that tears are the first language we learn, our primordial language.  I'm thinking that this is the level at which we respond to some situations.  There are no words (other than tears) to express feelings at times like these, but societal demands and cultural norms have stopped some of us from paying attention to the value of our first tongue.

Some who know me are aware of my good friend, the one who was diagnosed with brain cancer a little more than a year ago.  His most recent surgery happened in mid to late October, and since then I've received intermittent reports of his progress (or lack thereof).

Today I received the most recent update, in the form of a communication directly from his wife.  She has asked for our prayers because today she and the children are discussing the next steps: moving my friend into palliative care.  When I received the news this morning, the tears were not far away, and I remembered the advise about letting this first language take precedence.  No human words seem to have a place at times like this, and no amount of human reasoning will change the situation, but there's also a sense that this is a moment pregnant with promise about something that is being prepared, a graced moment which is currently being lived, a chance to love and to allow ourselves to be loved.

When words are not enough, acts must take over.  Sometimes we are fortunate enough to be able to be physically present, sometimes not.  At other times, we must rely on technology to transmit our well wishes and support, and above all we offer our prayer and support.  There are times when I'm convinced that this world would rather deny the power of prayer, but at moments such as these, there is little else that makes a lot of sense.

For all that has been, we give thanks and celebrate.  For that which is, we say yes.  For all that is yet to come, we stand quietly, prayerfully and wait.

One week later

It's been one week exactly since we arrived back home.  It didn't take long before we jumped right back into the river of routine, and even after the first day, some parts of me wondered whether I'd even been away.

The fog of jet lag is now fading but the memories of the travels and the adventures remain just as vivid as they were while they were being lived.  The myriad digital photos will help to keep the experience alive, and the plan to assemble a composite CD with pictures from any or all of the fellow pilgrims who travelled with us will keep the experience fresh for quite some time to come.

Hopefully in the very near future, I'll be able to cull my own collection of photos and post some of them in an on-line album of sorts so that the experience can be shared with those who may want to see for themselves what the Holy Land looks like today.  Admittedly it's changed since the time of Jesus, but it's not hard to hear his words echoed across time, or to understand the written word with renewed energy once one has walked the same roads, sailed the same seas and stood atop the same mounts.

A long day

As it turned out, today was a very long day indeed.  It began at 6:00 am local time in Jerusalem (that's 7 hours ahead of the local time in Ontario), and it didn't end until almost midnight Eastern Standard Time.

During this day, we visited En Karem (see the post just below), and then headed for the airport.  Did you know that one of the best security screening programs for travellers is found at Ben Gurion airport in Tel Aviv?  It's all based on getting to know their travellers, and they use all kinds of tactics.  In fact, from a travellers' point of view, it seems as though the aim is to get under our skin, just so they can test the authenticity of travellers.

We were warned to leave lots of time for the security scans.  In fact it took almost three hours from the time we walked through the doors of the airport until we arrived at the gate where we boarded the flight.  After this, we were in for an 11 1/2 hour flight directly to Toronto, and then a three hour wait for the connecting flights to our respective home towns.

No wonder we slept almost all the way on the last leg of the flight, and no wonder some of us are still falling asleep at strange hours, while others think that we should be wide awake.  They say that it takes a day for each hour of time change in order to re-adjust to the proper time zone.  If that's true, I should be back to fighting form in no time.

Say hi to the Baptist

Luke's gospel says that after she had heard the angel's message about her own impending pregnancy, Mary set out to visit with her kinswoman Elizabeth.  We're not told too much about were this visit took place, but the people of Israel know the answer to that question too.

Today, we bid farewell to the Dan Jerusalem and set out for the village of En Karem, on the way to the airport.  En Karem is the place where (it is rumored) that John the Baptist was born.  What a wonderful way to cap off our tour!  A stop in this little village and specifically at the church of Saint John, allowed us to pay homage to one last holy place, and to pray Lauds (that's Morning Prayer) in the church dedicated to his memory.  Why Morning Prayer, you may ask?  The answer is quite simple. 

An integral part of Morning Prayer is the recitation of the Benedictus, and this was the prayer that was uttered when Zechariah regained his power of speech, after naming his son John.  What a miraculous and wonderful way to end our pilgrimage.

On to the airport and the adventure of flying home.

A hiatus in the midst of the adventure

After all the whirlwind of adventure in this land, today was a gift.  According to the original plan, we were supposed to be on a flight bound for Toronto today, but the great mother ship (that's Canada's national airline for those who don't know the lingo) changed our flights and delayed our return by one day, thus granting us yet another opportunity to visit Jerusalem at leisure today.

Some of the group decided to play it safe and just rest at the hotel, but most of us set out on a walking pilgrimage back to the walled city, our destination: the famous Dome of the Rock.  Being not Muslim ourselves, how were we to know that this famous landmark would be closed to tourists today, thanks to the post-Hajj festival which the Muslims call Eid.  Not to worry, there is much else to occupy the time of an itinerant tourist within the walls (and without for that matter).

I do believe that most of us set our sights on the wailing wall, and a time for prayer and recollection for the Jewish people who continue to stand vigil in remembrance of the first temple which was destroyed in the first century Anno Domini. 

My own tour through the city also led me to some of the less trod paths (which I always love to discover.  There are an awful lot of doors lining the streets of this city, most of which are closed most of the time.  The curious passerby may well wonder what lies beyond their thresholds.  As it happens, some of these doors were propped open, and in the quieter areas of the city, we glimpsed visions of families who live in hidden places.  We also discovered at least one of the rooftop perches which allows a different view of the city.  Don't worry, the pictures will tell the story of this adventure into the next stratum skyward.

Lunch in the Jewish Quarter included a last foray into the world of shwarma and falafel: two of the delicacies of this land on which we have been gorging since our arrival.  The first is relatively healthy, but the second should definitely be ranked with the best of our fast foods, deep fried and relegated to the world of treats.

Some of our group then set their sights on other places within this metropol, including the Israel Museum and I believe even Yad Vashem.  In all, this day was truly a gift, before we set sail across the skies for our homeland.

When in another land

Leaving Jordan in the desert dust, we then set our sights for the King Hussein bridge: destination, the Israeli side of the border.  The reason for this change of locale had more to do with the fact that the Hajj is now complete and the Muslims who have been visiting in Iraq are now on their way home.  Also, today is a day of celebration and holiday for all the Muslims, so the Allenby Bridge will also be either closed or very very busy.

Now, in North America, crossing a border is a procedure that can last a painful two minutes for those who are really closely being examined (except of course in the case where you're pulled over and the entire car can be ripped apart, but that is less and less the case).  Borders in the Middle East though are a different matter.  Even with Canadian passports all, crossing this border still took us a little more than three hours.

A bit of research reveals that three hours is indeed a very reasonable amount of time for this crossing.  Others, such as residents of the Palistinian Authority can take up to an entire day to cross the same border (assuming of course that they can afford the associated fees).

By the time we'd found our way back to Israel, it was 4:10 pm local time, and we still had a two hour drive to reach our destination in downtown metropolitan Jerusalem.  Needless to say it was dark by then, and we had no choice but to bed down for the night.

Plans for visiting En Karem had to be delayed, at least for the moment.  More on that score to come.

Ancient Rome in Jordan

Today, the Hashimite Kingdom of Jordan (that's what the stamp in my passport calls this land) is mostly a Muslim land, but in the time when Petra was inhabited by the descendants of the present-day royals, there was also a settlement of Romans in the locale known as Jarash.  This ancient Roman city was once the seat of obvious power, as visitors today will tell you.  In fact, it remains one of the best preserved examples of ancient Roman civilization even to this day.

Walking through the cobblestone streets, climbing through the hills (which are relatively easy to manouver except when you're recovering from foot surgery and have a walking cast), visitors can almost hear water trickling from the once-alive fountain at the crossroads of the city, a place where sculpted nymphs may very well have provided a local watering hole for the youth of the time.  Like all the Roman settlements we've visited on this trip, Jarash has an amphitheatre, a hypodrome and all other characteristic markings of wealth and influence typical to the time.

All things must come to an end though.  What was once the seat of great power, now rests in ruins.  The only reminder of the glory days for Jarash are the stones that once stood one on another, the walls that defined great gathering places, and columns that still speak of the power and influence the Romans commanded.

Rocks, sand and ...

So, this morning began with a whirlwind trip through some of the ritzy parts of Amman so that our guide and driver could show us their own homes (or at least the homes they may hope to own one day).  This morning was also an eriely calm experience because the traffic was considerably lighter than it was last night.  Reason: today is preparation day for the Hajj festival.  This is the time when the locals share sesame seed cookies and other wonderful treats with their families and friends ... we even got a taste, but then it was time to set our sights on Petra.

Three hours hence, we arrived at the 'jewel' of Jordan, the city of Petra.  Encyclopedias of all types will tell the historical story of this city, but our experience began with a choice between descending aboard a horse-drawn carriage (cost roughly $30 US), on the back of a horse (cost about $5 US), or on foot (cost ... absolutely priceless).  Visitors to this place must descend pathways that vary in width and that are surrounded by walls that seem to dwarf the passerby before arriving at such fabled places as 'the treasury', the collonades, the royal tombs and the monastery (which in the time alotted for our journey allowed only one of us to take pictures).  Lucky for us he's going to share them with us.

The 800 steps up to the monastery are only part of the challenge facing the pilgrims.  Added dangers come from the 'ehem' added odors and evidence of camels, donkeys, horses and other animal life.  Add the presence of the omnipresent bedoins and you're beginning to get the picture.  Did you know that the bedoins begin to train their children in the art of harassment as early as the age of 2 years?  Petra seems to have more shops and opportunities for purchasing any range of baubles than the largest mall I've ever seen.  This is a classic case of caviat emptor.

Petra is a site protected and directed by UNESCO so each day it must be completely emptied (including the bedoins) before sunset.  Today they began to pack their wares as early as 2:30 pm.  The clever tourist might ask him-herself what was coming.  It wasn't long before we discovered the answer: a windstorm that whipped up the sand, and a dessert rainstorm (which by the way is nothing compared to a summer shower, but enough to cause danger for those who are still walking on the slippery stones, or trying to run their way back to the entrance in time to catch their bus.  The reward for arriving at your destination on time might just include an ice cream (each one of them run us about US$2-4) or a container of Pringles (cost US$4 per can).

Back aboard the coach, we then set sail for the return to Amman, not without a stop at one of the bedoin oases en route for tea, fancy pita bread and the odd bauble which may have been forgotten.  By the time we arrived at our hotel, the sun had long gone to bed, but we were famished, so it was a good thing that supper was ready.

Ah, by the way, one of us is celebrating a birthday today, so during the morning meal, we invited all the other travellers to join us in a rousing rendition of the annual musical greeting, and then at the supper hour, some of us took turns signing a card.  That's not easy to do when the guest of honour keeps wondering why his compatriots keep disappearing one by one and chooses to come after us to find out the answer to his quest.  We had to remedy the situation with a bottle of wine while we presented his gift and the card, filled with written greetings ... echoes of the sentiments of our hearts.

Ok, that's it for now.  Tomorrow's adventure will see us in the city of Jaresh before we cross the border back into Israel.  Tune in for the continuing saga.

See the promised land

When this trip is complete, it will take a few days to put the pictures in order, and a few more days to put the experiences in the proper chronological order.  For the sake of geographical displacements, we moved today a bit back in time, from that of Jesus and the events during his life (in the early part of the first century AD) to about the ninth century BC and the faith story of Moses.

The Book of Exodus recounts Moses having been commanded by God to look out upon the promised land.  From there, he was told to take the people of Israel into the promised land where they would live.  Fast forward to today, and this little traveling band made our way to the place where Moses is believed to have stood while looking out upon the promised land ... but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Departing from the hotel in Jerusalem, we made our way to the Jordanian border, at the famous crossing of the Alenby Bridge.  Thankfully we had been warned that crossing the border here is not quite like crossing the Canada-USA border.  There's a process to this crossing, and bystanders, innocent or otherwise, must abide if they hope to make their way to the promised land and back.  So it was that we found ourselves waiting, but admitedly not for too long, before we completed the crossing.  In all, the process took just over an hour, which isn't at all that bad for a group of this size.

We bid farewell to our Israeli guide and bus driver, and said hello to their Jordanian counterparts.  By the time we left the passport control plaza on the Jordanian side of the border, we had also inherited a border security guard who accompanied us to Madaba and beyond.  As it turns out, today was a rather busy day in Madaba, thanks to the fact that the annual Haj is now complete, and faithful Muslims, who are in the majority in Jordan, are on their way back home.  Beginning on Tuesday of this week, there will be a festival, and preparations are in full swing.

In Madaba, we visited St. George's Greek Orthodox church (Christians count for a mere 2% of the population in Jordan), and then continued to Mount Nebo, the site of Moses famous conversation with God.  Pope John Paul II visited Mount Nebo in 2000, and there is evidence still today of that significant occurrence.  In addition, the church at the top of the mount, cared for by Francisican Friars, is under restoration, so the originals of the mosaic floors are inaccessible to visitors at the moment.  Thankfully, they've provided a series of pictures so we can see what they are supposed to look like.

A stop at one of the local mosaic stores allowed us to see craftsmen and their apprentices at work.  We also had a chance to see some of the finished products, and I believe that at least some of my fellow pilgrims will be carting some of the mosaic hardware home with them.

Visits to this holy site complete, we then set our sites on the city of Aman.  By the time we arrived though, the sun had already set, so it was difficult to complete the planned tour of the city.  This had to be postponed to early tomorrow morning.  I'll be sure to write about that, and about our visit to Petra when I'm back online.

Many sights

Ok, we're trying to listen.  At least some who have been reading are asking for pictures.  I'd love to share them with you (the count is officially over 400 at the moment, and rising).  At present, the plan is to assemble the pictures when we're back, and I can actually download them from the cards on which they are stored at the moment, and then I'll be able to share them with you.  Can you wait?

At home and at play

The formal program for today began in the town of Bethany, not far from Jerusalem.  In fact, if Jesus was walking from one to the other of these cities, it would have taken little more than an half hour.  Bethany was the place where his good friends Mary, Martha and Lazarus lived.  Bethany was the place where he knew the tender love and welcome of friends.  This was the place where he came to be comforted even before he entered Jerusalem in those final days of his life.

We too came to this town, now a city in its own right, to celebrate in the House of the Poor as the Church of Mary and Martha is now referred to.  Here, we asked for the grace to be welcomed, and to welcome.  We gave thanks for the gift of friends, and we prayed for their good.  Even prayer space is at a premium in these places, as pilgrims arrive from all parts of the globe, competing for an altar, a place to pray, a moment to contemplate and an opportunity to have a prayer or two heard.

Continuing the theme of friends and comfort, today was a day for touring in the area, including a stop at Jericho, and a climb to the hilltop fortress of Masada, yet another of Herod's creations, the story of which has been written about and brought alive in film.  Actually scaling the walls of this place is an awe-inspiring thing, one not to be missed.

From the heights of Masada, we desended to 400 feet below sea level, to the shores of the Dead Sea.  Here we visited the world famous Ahava cosmetic company, and spent a few hours playing and floating in the sea.  After a float or two, and the odd mud pack (using the prized mineral muds found on the sea bed) it was time to set sail for home.  With the twilight hours upon us, we bid farewell to a day of fun and frolicking, a day of remembering and giving thanks, a day of praying and prasing.

All to be begun again tomorrow.

Caffene deprived

It's hard not the be Jewish in Jerusalem.  The Sabbath brought a whole new level of reality to these pilgrims, including elevators in our hotel which stopped at every floor without even as much as a button on it's floor indicator pannel being punched (too much work for the Sabbath).  For caffene adicts, Sabbath is a real challenge because it's forbidden to boil water.

How do non-Jews survive?

In and around the Holy City

Began the day today with Mass at the church of Pater Noster.  Now, imagine a place where the words of the Lord's Prayer are printed in mosaic all over the walls, inside and out, in I'm not sure how many languages.  Part of the tourist attraction (aside from actually celebrating the Mass) is to find the place on the walls where the Our Father is printed in a language you can understand.

Leaving Pater Noster behind us, we set off for the Garden of Gethsemane.  Yes, it's actually a real garden (walled in and complete with olive trees that are more than 2000 years old). The trees are still bearing olives!  There's yet another church nearby, dedicated to the suffering of Jesus.  It's decorated in colours hues of purple, the colour that symbolizes suffering and pain.

No visit to the Holy City would be complete without a walk through the Via Dolorosa and a moment or two dedicated to the recitation of the Stations of the Cross.  In our case, we recited them all, along the way, and it's amazing how this devotion comes to life when you consider that you're walking the actual way of suffering and pain.  Some of the physical structure of the walls of the city has been slightly altered, but the streets are still narrow, now cluttered with souvenir shops which compete for your attention.  Was it this busy in the time of Jesus too?

The Via Dolorosa ends at the Holy Sepulchre, the place where the tomb of Jesus lies.  Visiting it takes a lot of patience these days, because pilgrims must wait their turn to enter the crypt where they are given a mere 15 seconds to pray in silence before an Armenian priest does his utmost best to keep the line moving.  This place is dotted with all manner of Easter candles, reminders of the morning when the Church celebrates the Resurrection.

Ever heard of a Pascal Candle with a lightbulb attached?  There's one or two of them there too.

O little town

Somewhere within the massive Basilica of the Nativity in Bethlehem, there is a little chapel which resembles a crypt.  In this place, not far from the entrance to the church, we gathered to celebrate the Mass.  When we were finished, our little band set eyes on the place reported to be the birthplace of Jesus.  Whether this was indeed the place or not, pilgrims flock here every day of every year to pray and to give thanks for the miracle of the Incarnation, and we were among them.

Having visited the Manger, where there is always a Mass being celebrated, we then came up to ground level and made our way through other parts of the church, including Crusaders Cloister.  Next stop, the grotto where Saint Jerome spent countless hours translating the scriptures, and where he was eventually burried after his death.  Pilgrims still come to this place to pray in presence of his mortal remains.

Outside, we made our way to Shepherds' Field, where it is believed the shepherds were greeted by the angel and told about the divine birth.  It wasn't hard to imagine sheep in this place, and the shepherds who would have been outcasts by any standards, watching over their precious cargo.  Oh, yes you guessed it, there's a church there too.

The afternoon hours found us atop Mount Zion and in the church of Saint Peter in Galicantu, dedicated to the moment when Peter fulfilled the Lord's words about the cock crowing and him betraying ever having known Jesus.  Every one of these churches is a work of art, and most of them are now well cared for, but this building in particular would probably have been the house of Pilate, and thus the place where Jesus would have been imprisoned prior to his final day on earth.  Yep, the prison cell is also here for the visiting, and when they turn out the lights, it's REALLY dark there too.

On the way to the Holy City

Yes, I've read the accounts of Jesus travels throughout the land of his birth, but actually travelling these roads adds a different perspective to the journey.  Along the way from See of Galilee, we managed to stop at the sea port of Haifa, and to take a moment to visit the picturesque city, including a photo op at the Ba'hai temple located here.  Don't worry, pictures are coming.

While atop Mount Carmel (from where these gardens cascade), we also stopped at the Carmel to celebrate the Mass at the Church of Stella Maris and to deliver a gift to the Carmelite monks who still live there and administer the property.

Coming down the mountain, we then continued to Cesarea, where we laid eyes on the famous Roman aquaduct which was built in the time of King Herod the Great, to bring water to that city.  Cesarea, you might remember was the city where Saint Paul was imprisoned, where Herod had one of his famous palaces constructed (the ruins of which are still standing today, complete with an amphitheatre and all the necessary components for a fortress worthy of the King).  Considering that this fortress and others like it were built before the end of the first century AD, one must marvel at the engineering feat accomplished by Roman inginuity, even though it also came with unbearable consequences for all those who had to live subject to its exacting rule.

From Cesarea, we continued up to Jerusalem, where we bedded down for the night.  Yes, I did say 'up' to Jerusalem.  The area of the Sea of Galilee is actually a few hundred feet below sea level, and Jerusalem is 400 feet above.  Do the math.

For Pete's sake

The day began today at the Mount of the Beatitudes, where we celebrated an outdoor Mass overlooking the Sea of Galilee.  It's hard to imagine that all the stories (or most of the stories) of Jesus' public ministry took place around this body of water, the only fresh-water source in all of Israel.  They call it a 'sweet-water' sea.

On the Mount of the Beatitudes, we celebrate the Mass proper to the place, so the texts are (yep you guessed it) Matthew's account of the beatitudes, and the setting is perfect for reflecting on our own call to follow in the footsteps of the One who called us to be radical in our approach to preaching love.  Oh, and the Franciscan Sister who met us in the sacristy was so surprised and happy to finally find priests who could speak Italian that she would have given us the moon if it weren't the middle of the day.

Next stop on the tour was a place called Peter's Primacy: an access to the Sea where pilgrims can dip their feet into the water of the Sea and ponder what it must have been like for Jesus to meet his disciples on the shore of the Sea, to speak questions to Peter, who had only a short time before betrayed him three times, and to test him once again about how much the mortal one loved the Imortal one.  It wasn't hard to hear these same words spoken to us as we stood there, with wind on our faces, sunlight streaming, or approaching the rock where Jesus may have offered breakfast for his disciples.

The rock table where this breakfast was offered is called Tabga.  The rock is actually surrouded by a chapel and sitting in that serene silence one can easily picture the warmth and love with which Jesus must have invited his beloved disciples to share one last meal with him.  This tenderness reflects for us each time we hear the same invitation to come, to share a meal in the Eucharist, and then to continue the work that he confided to us.

On a day devoted to the ministry of Jesus, what better lunch offering could there be than to partake in Saint Peter's fish.  Believe it or not, each person who partakes receives a whole talapia, recently bathed in oil and prepared for consumption.  Food at its simple best, complete with a selection of salads ... and no there was no coin to be found in the mouths of the fish (any of them).  Who will pay the tax now?

Having consumed the fish, our next step was to set sail on the lake.  This was a wonderful opportunity, complete with a flag raising ceremony accompanied by strains of the Canadian National Anthem, and then time to reflect on the reality that we were travelling on the same lake that Our Lord once travelled, where he too taught.  The gentle rocking of the boat lulled us all into an apptitude for listening to the word that is still being spoken today.  Would that we could do this more easily, despite the busy-ness of our daily lives; life would probably be a whole lot different.

One last stop to complete the trip around the lake, and that in the city of Caparnum, where Jesus lived and ministered for so many years, where he told so many stories, where he cured so many in need.  This was the city in which Peter lived after Jesus' departure, in the house that once belonged to his mother-in-law.  Even today, the olive press in the public space may be used to process the fruit of the trees that still dot the landscape.  So much has changed since that day, and yet this place still stands still as a constant reminder of the man who came to change the world with words and actions that spoke ... that still speak so profoundly in a world that strans at times to deny him, at other times to resist the temptation to believe that our hearts can and will be changed for the good if only we would allow Him to do the work he came to do.

A walk though the shops

Today's adventure could probably most accurately be called, 'from Transfiguration to Annunciation' or 'from one 'tion to another'.

The entire day today was spent sightseeing around the Lake of Galilee, beginning at the Church of the Transfiguration, a visit to the top of Mount Tabor (oh, you need to see the buses here that have to drop us off at the first base camp, where we then board minivans for the remainder of the trip up the zigzagging cow paths to the summit of the mount (which actually rises ABOVE sea level).  It's hard to believe that much of this part of the world is below sea level, but the top of Mt Tabor, which is magestic above the valleys below, is actually only 200 feet above sea level.

Next stop ... down from the mount and then on to Cana, a quest which included a must-see stop at one of the famous wine shops (the water in Cana has funny properties, especially since Jesus visited there).  Actually the city of Cana was on his travel route, since he would often travel from Nazareth to Sephora with his father to practice their carpentry and stone-cutting skills, and Cana was the watering hole on the way.

Wine in hand, we next set sail for the Church of the Annunciation in Nazareth, where we celebrated the Mass, and then traced the steps from Mary's well (where she drew water on a daily basis) to her house (a mere 15 minute walk, at a leisurely pace), and then on to Joseph's place (which has also been transformed into a basilica complete with it's basement level which was the original Byzantine version of the church that still stands today under the care of the Franciscan Friars who care for the treasures of the Holy Land.

Lunch today consisted of a visit to one of the local watering holes where pita shells could be filled with falafel or shwarma (unless of course the pitas should run out, and then be substituted with Israeli baguettes).

OK folks, that's it for now.  Besides the editing team who is present at writing time is presuring me to complete this text, and I'm not so sure it's because they want to read them.  Talk again tomorrow ... more adventures await.

Baptism by ...

Entering into Israel proved to be amazingly simple compared to the departure from Canada.  Once through the initial barage of security, we were ushered out of the baggage hall and then met our trusty guide.  Ah, but I digress ... leaving the airport had to of course be delayed, thanks to some of our travel companions who had to 'steal' their way into a cup of gelato.

With the airport behind us, the next adventure began aboard a bus ... destined for the hotel not far from Tiberius (Northern Israel).  Along the way we stopped for a quick lunch at a kibuz where we met the furry rodents (aka catti felini) who freely roamed among the hungry patrons, hoping for morsels to fall from the tables of the rich.  No luck!

By mid-afternoon, we had stopped for a quick visit to the baptismal spot on the Jordan river, where we were encouraged to dip our toes (or our entire bodies if we so chose) into the holy water (which is still flowing but amazingly commercialized), and then made our way to the hotel.  It didn't take much for us to fall into semi-comatose conditions ... and it did almost take a bomb to wake some of us for the supper hour which awaited.

The food is amazing, but even that wasn't enough to hold us from the beds that were calling our names.

When Holy Terrors hit the Holy Land

One would think that leaving Canada is a pretty simple process, and experience has shown that normally it is, but it only takes one little thing to throw the plan off and then ...

Evidence this afternoon's adventure.  It began innocently enough in Sudbury (and in other parts of this fair land) when we each boarded the first flights.  Once we arrived in Toronto, the plan was to leave the hand baggage with others in the group, then step out the door to meet with my parents who were standing on the other side of the security door in Terminal 1.  This part went well, but when I tried to re-enter the secure site (with boarding pass and passport in hand), I discovered that the portal had somehow instantly slammed closed.

The problem: nowadays, the humble boarding pass is subjected to various security measures, including a magical wand meant to give 'clearance' to enter the secure zone.  However, with a boarding pass for an international flight, one is not allowed to enter the domestic boarding lounge.  Now what?  Travel companions are standing just on the other side of the door but I can't reach them.

To make a long story short, the airport staff had to have them paged, and then to instruct them to make their way to the international boarding gate where I would be waiting.  Ok, enough of that ... in short the rest went well, and we eventually made our way half way around the world ... and the adventure continues ....

They say 'Shalom'

So after what, a month of silence, it's time to write again ... I hope.  Actually as the sun sets on this day, there is but one more sleep before a little group of us (22 in all) will set off for the next adventure.  This person has already had the wonder of a pilgrimage in Poland, the Czech Republic, Austria and Germany.  Remember?  Now, tomorrow we set our sights to the Holy Land.

I'll try my best to keep you abreast of the developments as they happen, although I'm not planning to take this laptop with me, so it will depend on how often I can find access to the internet.  Stay tuned for the updates though; this tour promises to be the trip of a lifetime.

Confirming faith

With the beginning of the preparation session for the upcoming celebration of Confirmation, there are more than just the candidates who are learning about their faith in these days.  In fact, all of us disciples continually learn about our faith, and how to live it on a daily basis.

Even as we complete the registration process for candidates, and answer the many questions posed by their parents and guardians, today has presented us with a few options to recognize our faith in action.  As it happens, today is the liturgical feast of St. Bruno, a Carthusian monk who lived in the 11th century.  In Canada, it is also the liturgical memorial of Blessed Marie-Rose Durocher.  Who better than the Saints and Blesseds to provide an example for young and aspiring Christians like those who are preparing to celebrate Confirmation?

Faith in action is what the saints were good at.  Faith in action is what all the baptised are called to live.  Faith in action can see us teaching the young, or visiting the elderly.  We may be quietly paused in prayer or frantically feeding the hungry.  Wherever we find ourselves, we are reflections of the goodness of God, and must strive every day to celebrate it to the best of our ability.

And they're off

Tonight we held the first face-to-face meeting for children (and their parents) who will celebrate Confirmation this year.

The programme that we've prepared includes a component that can be followed on-line.  In fact, the children have now been entrusted with the preparation for this sacrament courtesy of our parish website, and the care of their parents.  In recent years, even the schools have noticed the importance of computers and e-learning, and have introduced laptop programs for students in upper elementary grades.

We have also added a few extra levels to this year's program, including an online forum for answers to the exercises to be submitted.  Readers of this blog can check out at least the introductory pages of this program, but unfortunately for you, the rest of the program is available only to students who have registered for the program.  Copyrights for this program are currently being arranged.