Bon voyage ... with food

Last night, we bid farewell to one of our friends, who embarked on a winter holiday just as the sun was rising this morning.  How does one say goodbye, while at the same time holding out the promise of more wonderful times to be spent when the friends who are now departed someday return?  Answer, with food of course.

In the case of this particular group, each gathering is characterized by different gastronomical fare, and each encounter is an adventure that must be lived!  Evidence last night's venture into the world of at-home Benihanna.  The heated cooking stones were set upon the table and each guest was then invited to start grilling in a fashion not unlike a fondue, except that the cooking surface was not a pot filled with hot oil, or broth.  Instead it was a heated stone that made the meats sizzle (or at least that's what was supposed to happen).  Even though the stones themselves had indeed been heated, there wasn't much sizzle at first because the flame from the liquid fuel packs below seemed to need some time to warm up.  Not to worry.  When there are good friends around, time seems to stand still, and eventually the stones caught up with us.

Satiated of our hunger, and having consumed enough of the nectar that makes us all appreciate life, the party came to an end, and life continued.  Isn't that the way.  This get together was reminiscent of some wonderful character-developing Hollywood productions like Eat, Drink, Man, Woman and even Babette's Feast.  I wonder what the next adventure will bring.

On Be-atitudes

One wise sage reminded me the other day that weekends seem to be coming at us faster and faster.  So it is that this week's installment in the archive of reflections has been prepared.  It might seem strange that while there is snow on the ground, and we are experiencing temps that would make blood stand still, I choose to reflect on trees, but there is wisdom to be found there too.  Check it out ... oh, and remember that you can always listen to this reflection, if you so fancy:

Lessons from trees
Nestled on the hillside, just outside the walled city of Jerusalem is the Mount of Olives, and if my memory is still good, there's a part of the Mount of Olives that is known as the Garden of Gethsemane.  Israel is world famous for its olive trees, but none are as old as those that still grow in this biblically famous garden.  In fact, the Garden of Gethsemane is now a well-manicured area, fenced off from its surroundings and complete with walkways that guide the wandering tourist through the majestic olive trees.  Ah, the olive trees!  Some of the ones in this particular garden are said to be from the time of Jesus himself.  Botanists and horticulturalists would be much better suited to verify their authenticity, but if that's true then I wonder what stories these trees could recount, if they had voices to speak ... but then again, trees do have voices, of sorts.  Like most other trees, if we were to check the growth rings in their trunks, we could verify their ages, but in the case of olive trees, maybe it's enough just to see the knarled trunks, to believe that these specimens were not planted yesterday.

When Jesus walked in the Garden of Gethsemane, perhaps these trees were present.  Most certainly the thickness of the trunks from some of them speak of the centuries they have stood, the ravages they have endured, the years of drought, the good times and the not so good times.  These particular trees are venerated, set apart, admired for their age and wisdom.  As I stood admiring them, I couldn't help wondering whether Jesus himself had come to this spot to speak with his Father, to puzzle out the truths that he would later explain to his listeners, in the sermon on the Mount and at other moments during his public life.  We all need a place to inspire us, to allow us to listen to the inner voice of God that guides and sustains us, don't we?

In many ways, our modern society has lost the art of venerating that which is marked by the winds of time, but there are still some cultures who put great store in the wisdom that is to be shared by those who have stood on this earth for longer periods than we.  Often, the sources of such lessons appear withered and drawn, wrinkled and haggard, and if we take the time to listen, to truly listen, there is great wisdom in their words, but listening takes patience, listening takes intentionality, listening is hard work, and some in our world are much too busy to be bothered.  What a pity!  If only they could understand the treasure that awaits, perhaps they would slow down, just a bit, and recognize the treasure that is just before their eyes.

Jesus' words, spoken in the Beatitudes, may have seemed strange to some of his listeners, but then again life is a matter of priorities and if our priorities are elsewhere, none of what Jesus says will make much sense.  If however, we have discovered the futility of putting our energies into achieving treasures that will pass away, perhaps we will listen to the Beatitudes in a different way, perhaps they will indeed begin to make sense.  You see, the Beatitudes provide the secrets to life.  This was Jesus' state-of-the-union speech, and these are the building blocks upon which a life in faith is built.  It is by no coincidence that the scripture writers recount these be-attitudes early on in Jesus' public ministry.  In fact, scripture scholars parallel them with the criteria for the final judgement spoken of in Jesus account of the sheep and goats.

So what must we do to inherit the kingdom?  It's laid out today for us in black and white:

• strive to be poor in spirit.  In other words, don't try to be God; recognize instead that there is only one God, and give thanks that he's the one who has everything under control;
• take time to mourn, to give thanks for the blessings we have known in the people we have loved, and pay close attention to the ways we can learn from the lessons they have taught;
• a competitive world doesn't have much time for the meek, for their gentleness, patience, docility or submissiveness, yet these attitudes are key when it comes to learning God's wisdom;
• recognize injustice in the world, and be the first to speak out when it is discovered.  Pride doesn't like to be challenged, but pride based on injustice is weak and crumbles in the face of truth;
• people in authority are powerful indeed, but power too can be strengthened by mercy shown to those who are in need;
• be honest about life and life will be honest in dealing with you; that's the secret to purity of heart;
• persecution can often detract even the most well-intentioned, but persecution for the sake of truth is worth it, no matter the price; and
• we should always be happy to count ourselves among those who are accused of being true disciples, because the task of a disciple is to comfort the disturbed and to disturb the comfortable.

On literacy

Today happens to be National Literacy Day and to celebrate, the local elementary school held a morning of activities for their students.  Students were divided into groups and then invited to visit with a series of 'stations' where teachers and other known personalities were waiting to share with them a variety of activities and exercises, all geared toward accentuating or increasing the students' literacy.

At one station, the students were told a story and then asked to create a craft which was inspired by the story.  At another, they were read a story and had to listen patiently.  In the room where I was asked to meet students, poetry was the order of the day.

How does one teach poetry to children?  Begin by asking yourself if you like poetry, or whether you appreciate it yourself.  In this case, I used a book entitled He Was One of Us and as I read the words of the poems (there is one on every page), I invited the students to identify the personage who was being described, or the situation that was unfolding.  So it was that the main characters, Mary, Joseph, Elizabeth, even John the Baptist were identified.

Then came a picture of two very old people, and the following words:

they know enough

the proof of God's fidelity

lies in their hands

the day of their lives!

Face to face with the child!

It makes them young again

the one thing left to them

is to praise and glorify

A light for Israel

a sun that rises

over the peoples

The students thought long and hard over this one ... then one bright little boy raised his hand, a knowing glow in his eyes, 'Cinnamon!?' he wondered.  'Close,' I encouraged, 'the name is Simeon and his companion's name is Anna'.  Of course I then had to tell the story of Jesus encounter with these two sages.

Kids weren't the only ones to learn valuable lessons today, and a chuckle or two along the way always helps.

Oh the humour

Sometimes life presents moments where you just have to laugh, and it would seem that the downtown location where I hang my hat is a prime location for seeing life in all it's colour.  Evidence today as we were in the midst of the celebration of Mass:  we were in the midst of distributing communion, a procession which is usually done with great reverence.  In fact if someone were visually challenged, they could easily tell that this procession was in progress as they listened to the repeated phrases, 'The Body of Christ' and 'Amen'.

Imagine our surprise when in the midst of the parade, there was an unexpected answer.  The river of words proceeded something like this:

'The Body of Christ ... Amen;
The Body of Christ ... Amen;
The Body of Christ ... No thanks'

As the other communion ministers and I waffled between trying to believe the words we had just heard, I couldn't help smiling to myself.  One glance told me that the person who had just approached was one of our, well, special people.  He reverently bowed his head, then turned and returned to his seat in complete silence.

Amidst the conversation that ensued afterward between those of us who still wondered, some questioned what had just happened.  I just kept on smiling, thinking that indeed whatever it was that was going through his head was perhaps a silent prayer, and that he might just be more in touch with God's doings than I am today.

This week's installment

I don't believe it's officially Vocation Sunday, although this week's scripture readings sure make it sound that way.  Here's my reflection on the call of the first disciples.  Have a read if you'd like, or feel free to listen in:

Can I have a hand?

As I read through this gospel in preparation for this weekend's homily, I thought of my parents, bags of groceries and tools. Now before you think that I've lost it completely, let me explain. Many times during my childhood, my brothers and I heard my father's or my mother's voice coming through the door of my childhood home. 'Can I have a hand here?' Sometimes, that invitation meant that there were bags of groceries coming in and we were being summoned to help transport them to the kitchen from the front door. At other times, dad was under the car, changing the oil or the brake shoes and needed someone to pass him any variety of tools while he was about the task at hand. More often than not, we had to pull ourselves away from the television to respond to such calls, but the simplest tasks were often the best way to spend some quality family time. When the oil had been changed, or the groceries had been put away, there was a feeling of satisfaction. As we look back now, this was and still is the stuff of memories.

In today's gospel, Jesus asked Peter, Andrew, James and John to lend him a hand. Working side by side with him, they created their own memories. They learned the craft of sowing the seeds of faith. They weren't the only ones he called, but he was deliberate about spending time with them, teaching them how to do the sowing, even as he counted on them to help with the task of proclaiming the good news. Jesus still asks people to lend a hand. In today's parlance, we refer to this asking as discovering and discerning a vocation, but we have to be careful never to think of discernment as something that we do on our own, like figuring out what we'd like to do when we grow up.

There was a time, not so long ago, when it was relatively easy to be a priest. Up until the mid-sixties, there were hundreds of seminarians, so there was lots of support for people who were trying to listen for God's voice, but in the mid-1980s when I found myself finishing off undergraduate studies and thinking seriously about priesthood, it wasn't so easy. Some of the men who began theology studies with me left after just a few days, others joined us, but still others disappeared for one reason or other along the way too. I still remember one of the faculty members at the seminary explaining to newly-arrived seminarians that the process of discernment and responding to God's call could be compared to a coppersmith whose task was to create a kettle. The trouble was, and still is today, that the only tools at his disposal were a flat sheet of copper and a hammer.

The 1980s, you might remember were also the years when the crisis of the Mount Cashel orphanage first became public news in Canada, and the never-ending tide of reports about abuse committed by priests and brothers cast a pall not only on priests who were already in the vineyard, but on those of us who hadn't even emerged from formation yet. In fact, as I look back at the years of my own discernment, there are decisions that had to be made about places and situations we could and couldn't get into, measures of safety we had to adopt for our own safety, and situations that we just can't afford to expose ourselves to. I remember thinking then, as I still do today, that the world has changed so much that kids today just don't get the same exposure to priests that even I had when I was a child, and the effects are already only too apparent.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to paint a 'woe is me' image of priesthood; far from it. No life today is easy, because we all face struggles. Where once there was a certain conviction of faith, there is all too often today a confusion about what is right, and one of the consequences of such confusion is that a faith formerly sustained by the conservative power of tradition needs the enlightened support of a strong intellectual base. We need to know our faith if we're to continue to sustain it. We need to know it in depth, in understanding, in learning. When the questions arise for us, we need to seek the answers - in scripture, in scholarship, in the Church's catechism, in adult education courses and in the established Tradition of the Church. When Jesus calls for help, we need to be able to respond with our minds and our wills, but unless our minds are fully informed for the future, our wills may let us down. It's not a question of holding on to the past, but of digging deep into the richness of our history, of being prepared to search, to explore and to equip ourselves for the challenges and opportunities that are yet to come.

In a world where opportunities to pass on faith are becoming fewer and further between, we might be tempted to give up, but this is not a time to walk away from faith; it's a time to explore its riches even more. Christ needs us in this generation to grow in faith, to share in his mission, to build up his kingdom. The perplexities of the present age should neither discourage nor daunt us. Working alongside Christ was never supposed to be easy. It's when the going gets tough that we need to work all the harder to pull ourselves away from the comfort of the television and respond to the call to lend a helping hand, for there will always be a gospel to be proclaimed, just as there will always be groceries to be brought in from the door, and oil to be changed in the car.

Yet another surprise

The wheels touched down at Billy Bishop just minutes after 4:00 pm local time, and we were off on foot to the next destination.  For weeks now, plans had slowly been put in place (but kept secret from some), and finally they were coming to fruition.

Only minutes away from the place of touch down the gathering space for the birthday party was waiting, and even better, the guest of honor answered the ringing phone and let me into the building, without recognizing my voice.  Up to the residence in the skies, and then into the door all the while unexpected, I then walked into the room and greeted the guest of honor, who stood agape in surprise.

Only yesterday I had been speaking with him and even though some allusion had been made to the fact that I should come to the party, there was still no inkling that I would actually show up.  The initial shock gave way quickly to joyful surprise, and yet another moment for celebration was well off to the races.  Add several members of the family to the mix, and the party was a raving success.

What will we ever do for an encore?  The actual birthday is tomorrow ...

Fusion can be fun

The excitement had been building for weeks, but none so much as within the final days before the feast.  Finally the moment had arrived. The decor was all in place, and the chefs arrived, bringing the volunteer wait staff along for the ride.  As the final preparations to the party space were put in place, the chopping and seasoning continued with ever-increasing abandon.

The first guests announced their arrival shortly after 7:00pm local time, and it didn't take long for the festivities to begin.  A welcome libation was first on the menu, but then the service began.  Two by two, like the animals boarding Noah's ark, the courses were paraded from the kitchen and placed elegantly before each of the guests.  Each pair was a comparison of sorts, each explained on the accompanying menu.

First there was an appetizer course, then a soup course.  Four more courses followed: the noodle course, the fish course, the meat course and then dessert.  The specifics of each course were outlined on the accompanying menu, permitting each dinner guest to anticipate the next course with just the right amount of interest to keep the party going.  By the time the final notes in this symphony had been played, one day had silently given way to another, and the guests were pleasantly satiated.  The containers of supplies that had been trundled into the house at the beginning of the evening were then loaded back into the waiting vehicles, noticeably lighter than they were before, and the party was over.

The verdict: a great time was had by all.  At least one diner commented afterward that she had never been privy to such an elegant meal!  What a complement!

The baptist speaks

On Friday of this week, the Vatican announced that the Holy Father, Benedict XVI has just granted permission for the Servant of God, Karol Wojtyla to be raised to the level of Blessed.  His beatification ceremony will take place in Rome on Sunday, May 1, 2011.  For many years, John Paul II called the church to accept Jesus' calling for all of us to live our commitment to faith with conviction, and now his witness is recognized throughout the world at yet another level.


This week's scripture readings invite us to see our lives as responses to the call of the Baptist.  Here's my take on what it means for us today:


The baptist speaks
During the final Mass celebrated this weekend, we will baptise the newest member of our community.  Since it so happens that the scriptures also focus on the words of the Baptist, I thought it might be fitting to dwell awhile on these few words and what they might mean for us today.  Today's gospel does not take place at the Jordan river.  Rather it is somewhere else along the road, and it appears that John, the Baptist that is, recognizes Jesus perhaps from a distance and speaks to his own followers about him: 'Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world".  Now that's a very strange choice of words: John refers to Jesus as the Lamb of God, but why.

In this part of the world, not many of us are too familiar with living breathing lambs, much less their parents, the sheep, but there are indeed farms not so far away where sheep are raised, both for their wool and for their meat.  Unless they are provoked, sheep are gentle creatures.  As long as there is just a bit of grub for them to find, they don't usually make too much of a fuss.  They will even follow one another in seeming peace, except of course when they are being chased by a wolf.  Perhaps this is the first characteristic about sheep and their little ones that we need to keep in mind.  Jesus was a gentle man, and calls us to a docility of spirit, able to allow ourselves to be led under the guidance of the divine shepherd.

The second image that a lamb evokes is newness.  I once visited a farm in early spring.  The animals were giving birth, and it seemed that every morning when we awoke, there had been new births throughout the night, new reasons for excitement on the faces of the children, even if their parents then had more work to do, and more mouths to feed.  Jesus, the Lamb of God, calls us to a newness of life, a renewed relationship of love and trust between ourselves and our God, made visible in Him.

A third image that we associate with the Lamb of God is that of redemption.  Now here's perhaps the most significant learning for today.  When John the Baptist used the phrase 'lamb of God' he might have been thinking of a passage in Chapter 53 of the book of Isaiah, where the servant of the Lord is compared to a lamb.  In fact, in Aramaic, the word talya means both servant and lamb, so when John said, 'Look, there is the lamb of God,' he was saying 'look, there is God's servant', but he was saying even more.  John had to be thinking also about the passover lamb, which from their earliest days had been offered by the Jewish people as a gift to God in springtime, as part of the first fruits, in order to acknowledge His supremacy and their dependence.  It was during the passover feast that they had escaped from slavery in Egypt and entered the promised land.  The passover lamb invoked images not only of first fruits, not only of God's supremacy, but their own liberation.  So when John said, 'Look, there is the lamb of God', he was saying, 'Look, there is the world's deliverer.  Look at the one who will deliver not just the Jewish people, but the whole world from a slavery greater than that of Egypt, from the slavery to sin.  There is our redeemer, the one who will buy us back with his own blood, the innocent lamb who will sacrifice himself for our salvation, the one who will reconcile us to the Father.

In one sentence, when John uses the word 'lamb' he is saying: this is the suffering servant who takes away sin, by offering his life out of love - at the end of the mission that he's beginning right now.  There he is, the Messiah, the Redeemer, on his way to the cross, to the Resurrection, to the empty tomb to the fullness of salvation for us and for the whole world.  The fact that this salvation would be for the whole world is also indicated in today's first reading from the book of Isaiah: 'I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth'.

The Baptist's word 'lamb' suggests three things: gentleness, new life and redemption.  It reminds us of so much for which we should be thankful.

Oh, by the way, here is the podcast version in case you want to have a listen.

Wired for sound

What happens when the sound system just doesn't work the way it should?  Some get very frustrated, and others enjoy the show, watching from the sidelines as the show that must go on limps along.

Even new additions to the array don't always help ... but then again some secrets are only discovered when we take the time to pull back the covers, the insulation and all other camuflages to expose the culprits.  In this case, the wires that are still being used today were first installed probably some sixty years ago (give or take a few).  No wonder they're tired.

The work has begun, and with any luck, now that some of the frail wires have been replaced, things will be much better.  The first test will take place tomorrow, and the promise is that all things should get better and better as the work continues. It's going to take a few weeks though before all the various secrets of the hidden wires and couplings are uncovered.  Some of these secrets need to be addressed so that the system can work the way it should ... one thing at a time.

With a bit of patience, hope will continue to dawn, and one day (very soon) all will hear as they should.

Fusion or friction

Four months ago, we held a major fundraising dinner.  Part of that evening included a fusion dinner which was put up for auction, silent auction.  As it turned out, the auction was a major success, and this dinner was definitely a part of that success.  In the offing, a dinner prepared by two chefs, based on two completely contrasting cultures.

One of the chefs is part owner in one of the most well-known restaurants in town.  The other is not.  Both of these chefs are proud of their heritages, but finding a way to blend these cultures wasn't that easy.  The result: we've decided to do an exposition of pastas: the Italian ones that have become so popular and well known throughout the world, and their much older cousins, the Chinese pastas which are equally famous.

Finally the day for the feast has arrived.  By tomorrow night, the months of anticipation will come to an end, but the anticipation is part of the fun.  It would seem that all the preparation is now done, and all that remains is to let the evening unfold.  Tune in tomorrow for the report on how it all turned out.

Born at Christmas

The first time our paths crossed, she was entering a door and I was standing there.  It wasn't long before I learned that her ethnic background was Ukrainian: she was very proud of her heritage.  Having heard for years about the customs surrounding Christmas celebrations in the Ukrainian households, and of course the Easter traditions of pysanky (Easter eggs), I had to ask, did this wonderful lady still prepare the 12 meatless courses for Christmas Eve?

'Yes,' she said, 'I have done it up until this last year, but I can't do it any more.'  Arthritis was cripling her hands and migrating into her arms.  Her fingers were already knarled and her arms were increasingly in need of braces because of the painful condition.

This didn't stop her though.  She was only too happy to show me how to make the many varieties of pedaheh (otherwise known as pyrogy) and of course the holopchi (cabbage rolls).  As it turns out, we spent weeks preparing the dumplings and other dishes that would garnish the table on January 6: Ukrainian Christmas Eve.  Family and friends gathered around the table that year, and her husband proudly proclaimed that the borscht had taken him the entire year to prepare, right from seeds!

After celebrating more than 9 decades here on earth, she finally returned Home this week.  The visitation with her family was continuous throughout the afternoon and into the evening.  Even the Vigil prayers were a moment of faith and belief in the promise of resurrection.

She would be very proud to see so many of her friends, the friends she loved for so long, the ones she guided, the ones she counseled, the ones she cried with, the ones she laughed with ... all gathered to bid her farewell.

Rest well, your good deeds have already borne fruit, and continue to do so ... and don't worry, the pedaheh, holopchi and borscht are now our responsibility.

For all who listen

Ok folks; it's time to catch up a bit with some of the tasks that have been left behind for a couple of weeks now.  In case you've been wondering about the podcast versions of some of my most recent reflections, here they are.  For the sake of ease of access, I'll list them below.  Just click and listen ... you know the routine.

Advent IV: The homily is entitled Never too late
Christmas: The homily is entitled It's Christmas (inventive of me wasn't it?)
Baptism of the Lord: The homily is entitled The Great Commission

The great commission

This Sunday, the Church celebrates the Baptism of the Lord.  With this celebration, we bring to a close the liturgical season of Christmas.  For the past number of weeks, we have been pondering various aspects of the miracle of the incarnation (something that we do well to contemplate all through the year), but the Baptism is kind of a commissioning that Jesus received.  It's also a commissioning that we all receive.  Perhaps this reflection will help:


The great commission
Some of those present may know of the Sister Adorers of the Precious Blood, a cloistered order of Religious nuns whose apostolate is to be close to God's people by their constant prayer for us.  Until just a few years ago, there was a convent of these sisters present in our diocese, and while I was serving as Associate Pastor at the Pro-Cathedral of the Assumption in North Bay, in the very early days of my priesthood, I had occasion to visit there from time to time.  In fact, I even spent a week there once, to complete my retreat in preparation for Ordination.  While I was there, one of the Sisters, Mary Francis was her name, was assigned to 'take care of me'.  She was the only one of the Sisters with whom I had contact through the week, with the exception of the 30 minutes each day that we would celebrate Mass together with the entire community.

A few months after my Ordination, I received news that Mary Francis had been diagnosed with cancer, and for the next year or so, I followed her progress, all the while remembering the care with which she 'watched over me' during the week I had spent with them.  At one point during the time of her suffering, I remember visiting with her in hospital.  She had been moved out of the convent because the need for treatment was too acute.  So it was that I found myself visiting one day, and in the midst of conversation, she said, 'Now, I am finally beginning to understand the true meaning of baptism'.  These words struck me as strange then, and they still haunt me to a certain level even today.  Why is it that even a woman who had dedicated her entire life to prayer and to the service of a loving God could only begin to understand the first of the sacraments as she was preparing for the end of mortal life.

Seventeen years have passed since that day, and I'm still not sure that I understand this mystery.   From the outside looking on, baptism seems like an easy enough thing: we pour water over the head of a child, we anoint with oil to seal the child with the promise of salvation, we speak words of blessing over the child and his or her parents, but do we truly understand the inner workings of this or any of the sacraments?  Perhaps even as we go through the actions, we are more like John the Baptist, who didn't understand himself why he should baptise Jesus, but Jesus knew that it had to be so: that the outward, visible signs and actions had to confirm what was being accomplished in the interior, spiritual realm, and this is what happens even today.

Baptism represented the beginning of Jesus' public ministry.  It is also the beginning of our relationship with God, and this relationship necessitates conviction, and action as we ourselves continue to evangelize the world around us.  For some of us it takes our entire earthly existence to understand this, but for all of us, baptism leaves us no choice but to love as Jesus did.  Loving is not always easy business.  Some people didn't want to hear what Jesus had to say, some people felt extremely threatened by his words, even as others found profound comfort.  It's still the same today.  There are some, perhaps many in our world who would much prefer to be left alone in their own worlds, where they could continue to be concerned about their own well-being and not have to think for a moment that their words and actions impact others. 

Even in a world of instant messaging and communication, there is still mystique about this life to which we are called.  When we hear of the 'natural disasters' that have been ravaging certain parts of our world, it's easy for us to send money to help the victims of floods in Northeastern Australia, yet there is an individualism that is bred by our increasing dependence on technology, an individualism that is a dangerous threat to the life of faith to which we are called.

As the Church celebrates the Baptism of the Lord, we too are reminded that the true meaning of this sacrament is a call to enter into relationship, not physical, vistble relationship, but spiritual relationship with the One who accompanies us.  This is a call to service, a call to continue the evangelizing work of Jesus who began it.  Sometimes we will enjoy this journey of faith, and at times we will find it very difficult, but we are all called to live it to the full.  How else but by faith could Peter have dared to speak out as he did in the house of Cornelius, to risk life and limb in order to speak his truth before the very people who could call down the wrath of suffering upon him, yet we have the recorded proof in the second reading today that he didn't shy away from it.  Jesus welcomed each of us with great joy on the day of our own baptism.  He and the saints, our spiritual companions, gently encourage us as we continue to live the life of faith each day.  They embolden us when we need to speak difficult words, they accompany us when we must live delicate moments, they comfort us when we must face troubling times, and they celebrate with us when we accomplish that for which we are purposed.

Food for Christmas

They're celebrating Christmas, so why not join in the festivities.  As it happens, a few friends and I will be sharing a Polish meal tomorrow, and I've been asked to prepare the feast.  What does one serve at a Polish banquet (for all meals and acts of welcome are generous to a fault, as I've learned, in the Polish culture)?

On Friday of this week, Ukrainians and others who follow the Julian calendar would have been sitting for a twelve-course meatless feast, so in the spirit of this celebration of Christ's birth, tomorrow is shaping up to be filled with gastronomical delights.

Thanks to a combination of sources, the menu will look like this:

• 'Christmas Eve' Barszcz (the traditional beet soup which begins the feast)
• Nalesniki filled with seafood (crêpes to continue the festive tradition)
• Tenderloin brazed with sauerkraut (an adaptation of sorts)
• A potato loaf flavored with bacon and sour cream
• An assortment of roasted vegetables
• Galactaburicco (I think that's how it's spelled.  Actually this is a Greek dessert, but we're adapting it for the sake of this feast).

Smacznego!

An idea germinating

For some time now, others have been suggesting that I should write a book but, lacking a clear idea about what such a work might focus on, I'm still tempted to be a bit shy about embarking on the odyssey.

Then, this morning, an idea dawned.  It's still not much of an idea, but maybe.

You see, this person loves to travel, and this person loves to cook.  Sooo ... I'm thinking that perhaps I should do a collection of travel narratives and combine them with some of the recipes (exotic and otherwise) that I've managed to collect over the course of years.  Like any good adventurer, part of the discovery includes the people who call different lands home, and part of getting to know people is getting to know their cuisine.

What then would a grouping of my favorite places, and dishes look like?  Is there an interest or a market for such a collection? or am I just repeating what someone else has already dreamed about.  There are already cooking shows that focus on the cuisines of lands near and far, and I'm sure there are already scores of such chronicles.  The question is, is there room for another?

Christ is born

Last night, after nightfall, the local Ukrainian Catholic community gathered to celebrate the vigil of Christmas.  Yes, you read it correctly.  The Ukrainian Church (and many of the Eastern branches of the Catholic Church, as well as the Orthodox Church) follow the Julian calendar, so Christmas day is not December 25, but rather it's today.  That means that last night would have been Christmas Eve.

The greeting that is traditional within the Eastern Church at this time of year is Christ is born! This writer has heard this greeting on a number of occasions (in Ukrainian) but although I can pronounce it (I think), I wouldn't dare to try spelling it.

Where once this greeting would have been spoken aloud to those we greeted in streets and homes throughout the Christmas season, it seems to be whispered today in these and many other places.  Perhaps there is a cautious wondering about whether we would offend, but one wonders if concern for political correctness may not ultimately spell a reaction in fear which stifles us from proclaiming with joy the truth of our Saviour's birth.  The world needs Him; the world needs us; the world needs to hear our voices.

Christ is born!  Come let us adore Him!

Putting on a face

Have you ever encountered the faceless person called 'bureaucracy'? It can be absolutely ugly, but when it works it can be sweet!

Some regular readers know that I've had to become somewhat of an expert in dealing with this dreaded beast over the past number of years, and finally (I'm perhaps wishing against the odds here) they seem to have gotten it right.  They are the ones who created the system that we poor fish have to swim in, and yet it seemed for the longest time that each time we tried to follow the rules, there were new adjustments, or snags of other kinds happening.

Not this year!  The required reports were prepared well in advance of the imposed deadline.  They were submitted during the week prior to Christmas.  Yes, I know that anything that arrives during that particular week is subject to delay, but here is one example of the contrary.  It would appear that the report arrived in their office and was processed and answered in the space of two business days (nothing short of miraculous, but then 'tis the season for miracles, n'est-ce pas?).

The reply correspondence arrived today, and sure enough the application has been approved ... for another year!  There's always a caviat though, because they want to give me the next year's deadline well in advance so that I can make sure to clear all the hoops before the snare trap gets sprung.  Oh well, we'll worry about those hurdles when they come.

Cudos to them ... they finally seem to be getting things right.

New beginnings

As the early days of this new year are still proceeding one by one, some of us are returning today to the regular routine of work, but others still have a few scant hours to wait before the torrent of life comes crashing in.  These are precious moments, time for us to give thanks for that which has been, even as we look forward to what might come to pass in the months ahead.

If there be traditions surrounding this new beginning, then music must indeed be part of them, as are familiar phrases which bid farewell to the old and greet the new.

For all that has been, in your life and mine, let us give thanks;
For all that is, let us live it honestly and with integrity;
For all that will be, let us say yes with conviction.

Two in a row

It seems that the Christmas season is flying by.  Just yesterday we celebrated the Solemnity of Mary, the Mother of God, and already today, the liturgical calendar presents us with the Feast of the Epiphany of the Lord.

As temperatures plumet outside, there is now a thin blanket of snow (which fell overnight).  Was this meant to remind us that Christmas is not quite over yet?  With snow on the ground, it might be difficult to imagine what it might have been like for the Wise Men to have been trudging through sand and desert heat, but that's what today's Feast is all about.  Here then is my reflection for today:

The season for gifts

The Christmas season is about gifts. For the child within each of us, there's a certain excitement about gifts received, and for the adults in all of us, there is an equal excitement about gifts given. The age-old question is whether it's better to give or to receive. In order to understand how we should answer this question, let's look today at the bearers of gifts who came from the east to visit the divine child.

Tradition numbers the Magi as three, and even names them: Gaspar, Melchior and Balthasar, but little else is known about them. That they came from the east would appear as a fact of history, although how far exactly we're not sure. They were prepared by prophesy for the coming of a Saviour, and they were guided by a star to the place where he was to be found, but nothing could ever have prepared them for the circumstances of his birth. The Magi were wealthy men. They had to be to make such a journey. They had to be to bring such expensive gifts. Their rich backgrounds and their exalted concept of kingship must surely have raised their expectations. Instead of a court though, they found a cave; in place of a throne, they encountered a manger; where they expected grandeur, they discovered poverty.

Struck by these circumstances, lesser men would have carried on, believing that their true treasure was elsewhere, but these were truly wise men, not because they brought a lot of knowledge with them, but because they were able and willing to set aside preconceived notions in order to grasp the truth of the situation. They were wise, not because their heads were full but because their hearts were open. The true wisdom of these men from the east is not found in their outward appearance; it exists rather in their ability to kneel in adoration.

When I was a child, I used to think that the encounter between the child Jesus and the Wise Men from the east was a one-sided affair, an occasion for presenting gifts to the Holy Family in recognition of this blessed birth, but the gift giving goes both ways, and I'm convinced that the travelers came out on the winning end of that exchange. The Epiphany is sometimes referred to as 'Little Christmas' but in the Eastern Church, it is celebrated with greater importance than Christmas. The word 'Epiphany' means 'a showing forth' and so today we celebrate Christ's presentation of himself to the whole world. The King of kings invited not only the Jews, but all people, Gentile and Jew to partake in his love, his grace, his joy.

The Magi visited with a baby, but that baby was God. They gave him their faith, and received hope and love in return. They gave him their hearts and received in return a gift that even God himself couldn't better - the gift of himself. Saint Paul told the community at Ephesus that we are coheirs, members of Christ's body and copartners in the promise announced to us in Christ Jesus. In your life and in mine, this truth has not come about in a one-time epiphany, but rather in varying degrees as we have continued to grow in our faith. As we grow in our faith, each one of us, like the Magi themselves, presents our gifts of faith, small as they are, and in return we receive the infinite grace of divine friendship. This friendship is the source of our hope because it bears with it unfathomable hope, founded in love.

Christmas is indeed a season for gifts both given and received.

Happy New Year

It's cloudy outside today.  The temperature is just above freezing, ensuring that there is rain falling and not snow.  The past two days have brought rain and a fair amount of fog which has hampered travel plans for many (myself included) who may have been planning to arrive at our destinations on the wing.

Having said this, a certain degree of inginuity was called for (and a pair of very generous parents, who agreed to ferry me and a fellow priest back to our home city yesterday), but not before the vigil Mass for the Solemnity of Mary, the Mother of God would have been already celebrated.

Here then, is my reflection for this feast day:

Right from the start
Happy New Year! Thanks to Father Brian's generosity, I was able to spend an extra day or two with my family, and I tried to get here in time for last evening's Mass, but unfortunately the fog was hampering all efforts for the planes to land. As it turns out, I found a number of other people in the airport who I knew (and that's a rare feat these days), and we were all trying to come back home for New Year's Eve, but none of us could get here aboard a flight, so we all had to find other means of transportation. While all this was going on, Father Sharpe graciously agreed to preside at the vigil Mass that was celebrated yesterday. Some would say that it was providence that allowed the oldest priest in the diocese to preside at the last Mass of the calendar year 2010, before a not-so-old priest would arrive for the first Mass of 2011.


A new year is always a time for starting afresh, and the liturgy focuses our attention today on the person of Mary, the Mother of God. Throughout our history, Mary has always occupied a place of honor in the life of the Church. Even among the apostles she has enjoyed pride of place, perhaps because she was the first to show us how to listen to the voice of God, and the promptings of the spirit as guides for our lives. Isn't that the life of a disciple: listen for the voice of our celestial guide, and follow in His way?

The gospel passage proper for today's Mass places us with Mary and her betrothed in the stable in Bethlehem. Even as they are still gazing themselves upon the face of their divine son, their first visitors arrive. These are not the majestic bearers of great earthly treasure; they would come later. No, the first visitors were the shepherds, the ones who lived as outcasts, the ones who tended the herds in the fields not far away, the ones who society looked down upon. This little group of humans had all heard messages from heaven; perhaps the animals too had had their own encounters with angels. What then was running through their minds? Strangers who had never before met each other were brought together for this first gathering around the manger. Even as a little child, Jesus was bringing people together and calling the not-so-well-to-do crowd to stand up, to believe that they too have something worth saying, whether the world would listen or not.

The scriptures tell us that Mary treasured these things, and pondered them in her heart. We too should follow her lead. This is the time to start (if we need to get started). All around us, every day, there are things worth pondering. All around us, every day, there are signs of blessings being given to us, not always with the formula of blessing spoken in today's first reading, but moments of grace sent our way by the same child who once summoned shepherds to herald his birth. Saint Paul tells us in the second reading today that we are all children of God. Can you even begin to imagine the significance of such a title? In another age, only the children of royalty were entitled to the privileges accorded to the royalty, only the children of the nobility could ever hope to enjoy the life that was accorded to the well-to-do, but Jesus changed all that. He came to this earth in order to show us that we are ALL called to a place of privilege because we are all his sons and daughters, and we receive this high calling not because of a birthright by happenstance. Rather we are all entitled through the grace of our baptism.

The gift of our spiritual birthright is announced to us today as it was announced to the shepherds: by angels. If we have the eyes of faith to see, and if we allow our hearts to welcome such good news, we too will ponder these things in our hearts, and we'll be all the richer for it.