Brave New Year!

I wish each of you a very happy, hopeful and brave New Year!  Why do I add the word 'brave' to the list?  Well, it seems to me that we are on a new journey, and for that we need most of all, courage!  They say that even the longest journey starts with the first step, and it is that first, tentative step into the unknown that requires courage.  The second thing we need for our journey into 2013 is support - people around us whom we can trust, companions who will be there for us and see us through the bad times and laugh with us in the good times.  Together we can do great things.  I believe that, don't you? 

To be an optimist is not usually to be naive, although of course it may be, but essentially it is to look at the reality of our situation and find a path through it that is possible to traverse safely.  Optimists look at possibilities and take risks. Pessimists see only the negative side and are afraid to risk being wrong!

We need role models don't we, leaders who have the courage to take the first step on a new, untried road, and beckon us to follow. 

There are many role models we can take through this New Year, many saints, many people in our own lives, perhaps.  I'm going to ask you to take a fictional character, a figment of a gifted writer's imagination, if you like. And when I tell you who he is, don't say "But he isn't a real person!"  He is an intrinsic part of an allegory, and allegories are very important in showing us something about ourselves.  Jesus used that device in his teaching - we call them parables.



JRR Tolkien



Have you seen "The Hobbit"?  If you haven't, do try to do so  The film version of Tolkien's "Unexpected Journey" is really three stories intertwined and focuses on one character in its title, a hobbit.  Let me tell you how a genius's mind works.  This genius was a lecturer at Oxford.  He was correcting some student's essays. When he got to the last one in the pile, he found that  there was a blank page at the end of the examination paper, which this particular student had not filled in.  Absent-mindedly, Tolkien scribbled something on the paper.  When he looked at it, he realised that it had nothing whatever to do with the essay he was supposed to be marking.  He had written:

In the earth was a hole and a hobbit lived in it...

He looked at it,  bemused.  But, being Tolkien, he wondered "Hole?" "Where is it?"  And he proceeded to find out what a hobbit was, and where he lived. He peopled his world with amazing characters - dwarves, wizards, magicians, the stuff of fantasy.  But he gave us Middle Earth, The Lord of the Rings, and now this Unexpected Journey we call The Hobbit for screen purposes. You may not like fantasy films, I don't think I like them usually, but this one, like the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe series, says something important, especially for us facing a new beginning, an adventure if you like.

The Hobbit

The main character is called Bilbo Baggins, who is the hobbit.  He lives in Bag End, and he loves nothing more than to sit by his fire quietly enjoying his solitude or entertaining his friends. He was shy and not very charismatic, if you know what I mean.  Then one night, he is visited by thirteen noisy and demanding dwarves, and Gandalf, who asks him to go on a journey with the dwarves to regain their lost kingdom.  He is an unexpected hero, yet the story is about his finding in himself the ability to lead and to find the lost home of the dwarves, and also to fight the dragon who guards it.  He is a hopeless fighter, and in the beginning has no confidence in himself. Yet he succeeds. One might say that he was naive.  Yes he was, but what he had was a sense of adventure and a growing belief in his mission. As well as that, he had unselfishness. After all, he had a home which he loved, and didn't want to leave, but he felt sorry for the dwarves who had lost theirs, and he wanted to help them to regain it. 

He also held on to his beliefs.  He arrived at the end, battered and bruised, almost dead, but he held on to the ring.  Maybe Tolkien saw that ring as not good.  I don't know.  But if we are looking for an allegorical meaning, then we can say that, to be faithful to what we believe in is good, and to hold on to what we have been given to guard is life-giving for us.  Tolkien was a devout Catholic, and he too believed that faith is very important, and without it we live a half-life.  Little Bilbo Baggins believed that someone was helping him to keep going on a journey that was well-nigh impossible, and he clutched the ring as a talisman. 

In our Congregation we have what we call our charism which is the spirit and values which our Founder, Mother Magdalen lived by and passed on to us.  We try to pass them on to others as Good News.  To be faithful to them is our challenge. We are Christ-bearers to the people of our time, being asked to bring Christ to every situation, especially where there is conflict or lack of forgiveness.  In his own way, little Bilbo did the same, although he would not realise what he was doing.

The Hobbit is also something of an allegory of leadership.  Perhaps we are reading too much into it, but I can see what people mean when they say that.  No one with any judgement would choose Bilbo Baggins as a leader, still less would they have confidence in his ability to lead others through hard times, and show them the way forward.  Yet he did it where others failed. 

So this New Year is about facing whatever comes with courage, even with a spirit of adventure, like Bilbo.  It is about helping others on the journey and finding enough courage within ourselves to pick ourselves up when things go wrong, and start again.  Those are New Year challenges!

I wish each of you once more a lovely 2013 and a special Year of Faith.  Think of Bilbo. He set out on a journey of adventure, probably found it terribly hard, but kept on, didn't turn back and came to the end of his journey stronger, more in tune with himself and others, and more at peace!  I wish the same for each one of you and for myself and each member of my Congregation.  See you next year!

(Photos courtesy of http://thehobbit.sqpn.com/, http://biographyonline.net)

(Photos/Graphics courtesy of Sr. Agnes Kavanagh and BMJL)

Holy Innocents Day

The Holy Innocents by Giotto di Bondone.

Today is the feast of the Holy Innocents - those babies murdered by order of King Herod when he was trying to locate where Jesus was so that he could destroy him as a king born in his territory would be a terrible threat to the power of Herod and his descendents. 

What a terrible day!  Little baby boys sought out, grabbed by the soldiers of the King, and heartlessly butchered. Imagine the fear and the pain of those poor mothers.  It is just too terrible to contemplate.  Yet it happened, and it is happening in different ways all over the world of today. Children being abused, children dying of malnutrition,  children being butchered to keep some dictator in power.  Let's rememer all those children today, and their parents, that the God who once said: "Let the children come to me, for of such is the kingdom of Heaven!" will put his arms around those suffering mites of our world, and heal and comfort their parents.  This is a prayer-poem about the Holy Innocents.  Perhaps you would like to pray it as you think of that blood-soaked day of long ago in Bethlehem:

O Bethehem! 'tis not the rosebud's time to open,

O Bethlehem!

Yet fallen petals haunt thy ways,

Deep desolation moans in Rama,

Rachel bewailing sons that are not,

Disconsolate O Bethlehem!

O Bethlehem!

Incarnadined in riven roses,

O Bethlehem!

Hadst thou no room at all for him?

So very small was royal Juda,

Now there is room in every cradle

and he is gone, O Bethlehem!

Author unknown.

One card

When I worked in the Clifton diocese, I had many wonderful experiences, some scary ones and many that, to this day, have made me think, especially at this time of year.

It was a week before Christmas, and of course we were very busy in school with plays, carol concerts, Advent  services,  the usual occurrences just before finishing the term for the Christmas holidays.  In the middle of it all, my parish priest telephoned and asked me to visit an old man, newly-arrived in the parish, who had broken his leg and therefore was housebound.

When my companion and I got to the house, we found that it was a two-roomed apartment in an area which was very run-down.  To our surprise, the man himself opened the door to us after some time of shuffling about and fumbling with locks.  I thought that he might have had a friend or a carer with him to help him, but he was completely alone.

His smile of welcome was heart-warming.  He had not seen either of us before, but it was obvious that we were an unexpected Christmas treat for him.  He sat us down with old-world courtesy, and offered us tea which he gave us in the manner of a butler in a large house serving refreshments to honoured guests, even though the tea was poured out in chipped mugs.

 I looked around the room.  It was sparsely furnished, but very clean and tidy.  His few possessions were lovingly cherished: he had two pictures which must have come from better days hung on the walls, and they brightened up the room, giving it a character it wouldn’t have otherwise possessed.  Then I saw a string tied around the mantelpiece.  On it was hung a large Christmas card.  This was displayed in the most eye-catching part of the room so that he could look at it often.  One card.  For something to say I said:”You’re putting up your cards, I see!”  His face broke into a smile. “Yes” he answered. “Isn’t this a wonderful time of the year? I love it!”  He then went on to tell us that this card had come from the St. Vincent de Paul Society in his last parish.  “They are so good!” he said.  They always came to see me, and gave me a present at Christmas!”  He got the card down and showed me.  It was thumbed, worn, often read.  I turned it over.  It was last year’s card.  With a smile I handed it back, making a resolution that he’d get a load more if I could help it.

One card.  Last year’s card.  Not chucked in the bin, not given to a charity for recycling, but loved, cherished, precious.  He talked with pride about his children.  His wife had died some years earlier, but he had three children, one a barrister, another a high-profile business man, and a third living abroad in a taxpayer’s haven.  All able to reach him.  All with the means to make his life more comfortable.  All too busy, or too involved with other concerns.  Yet he loved them and prayed for each of them at night.

I left that room a very changed person.  So did my companion.  We talked about it on the way home.  We had no idea how he came to be so poor when he obviously had seen better days, but the amazing thing was that he wasn’t bitter.  He was lovely.  I’ve always remembered him.  When I told a group of women who came to the Convent a little about him, without revealing who he was, they all said ”Oh can he come to my family for Christmas? We’d love to have him!”  Good, loving people.  I think he made friends, and received help.  But it would have been good if his family had remembered him. Loneliness is the disease of our times.  There are so many, and at Christmas it seems more poignant, doesn’t  it?

So let’s remember Jim – we’ll call him that. There are many Jim’s and Joan’s around us. Jesus came to offer love and friendship. He didn’t have much either, but he shared what he had.  In these days of recession, let’s do that too.  Have a lovely third week of Advent, and, like Jim, rejoice  because “Christmas is a wonderful time.”    So it is, for the generous of heart.

 

 

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light

                                                           

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light...

So Isaiah Chapter 9 starts.  Does that passage lift your heart?  If not, try again!!   Imagine a people, poor, lowly, dispirited, living in darkness – the darkness of fear, of bereavement, of lack of peace, and look around you.  Yes, we see these people all the time, every day at some time or other, and, unfortunately we get used to seeing them, used to their pain and hopelessness, so that we don’t try to do anything about it.  Isn’t that true?

This word-picture in Isaiah goes further.  Isaiah says that they “have seen a great light.”  Not a small, bobbing light that gives no relief from the surrounding darkness, but a great light , a light that will never go out, the light of the risen Christ shining on our shadowed world, lighting up the darkness, so that we can see clearly, reaching out to those still sitting in the darkness of despair, and lifting them out of it with our prayer.   This is an Advent experience.  Advent is all about hope.

“You have made their gladness greater” the prophet goes on to say, “you have made their joy increase”.   Advent is also about joy.

Yesterday morning at Mass in our local Church,  there was a chill in the air.  The Church wasn’t adequately heated, and it was very frosty and cold outside.  People were rubbing their hands and putting gloves back on, and shrugging into thick heavy coats.  Not at first a particularly joyful atmosphere for the first Sunday of Advent.  Then one of the altar servers, a young girl, picked up a taper, lighted it and went over to the newly-created Advent wreath.  She lighted the first candle and everyone in the Church craned their necks to have a look.  A flickering candle, getting stronger, the first of four lighting up the greenery around it, and picking out the purple, pink and white candles  still unlighted in the circle of time.   Most smiled.  The first Sunday of Advent!  A sign of hope.   A bit of warmth in a cold Church,  the beginning of a journey of faith – another Christmas on the way.  You could almost read the thoughts of the Congregation as they looked at that lone candle.  The symbol of hope, peace and gladness.  We all knew what it meant to us.

Advent is about a shared journey of faith which is lighted up by the light of Christ’s coming which started all those years ago in that little town of Bethlehem.

It demands something of us, as all journeys do.  What did Isaiah say as he continued the theme of his prophecy?

For (we) rejoice in his presence as people do at harvest time,  when they are happy  dividing the spoils.  For the yoke that was weighing on him,  the bar across his shoulders, the rod of his oppressor, these you break as on the day of Midian.

Why?

Advent is about laying down burdens,  and freedom from oppression because Jesus promised us that he had been anointed “to bring good news to the poor,  to bind up hearts that are broken, and to  proclaim liberty to captives and those burdened”  (Isaiah 61).  His mission was to give hope to those made poor.  It is our challenge now in this Advent.

Further, he challenges us:

For all the footgear of battle, every cloak rolled in blood is burnt  and consumed by fire.

Advent is about refraining from enmity, hatred, aggression.

Again, why?

"For there is a Child born to us, a Son given to us, and dominion is laid upon his shoulders,

And this is the name they will give him:

WONDER -  COUNSELLOR,  MIGHTY GOD,  ETERNAL FATHER, PRINCE OF PEACE.....”

Advent is about the coming of the eternal, co-existent,   all-powerful God who is “other” to our world in order to forge human and divine links which makes him one of us, imminent, enfleshed in our humanity, part of our pain and our joy.  It is about a love that will not let go, a love that invites us to hold on to those tiny hands that became the healing, out-reaching hands of the Man God of Nazareth.  It is an invitation to change our stony hearts to hearts of flesh so that he can love us the way he wants to love us.

Read the passage from Isaiah just quoted again and again, and make it your own this Advent.  It is beautiful, awe-inspiring and challenging, as are all the Advent readings.

Have a lovely Advent.  We will meet again next week, hopefully, when you have walked a few steps on the journey.  As a famous anthem of a Northern football team would sing:

When you walk through the dark, hold your head up high,

And don’t be afraid of the dark,

At the end of the road is a golden sun and the sweet-silver sound of the lark.

WALK ON, WALK ON WITH HOPE IN YOUR HEART AND YOU’LL NEVER WALK ALONE!

 

For we, the people who walked in darkness have seen a GREAT LIGHT.  Praise him!

 

Drawings courtesy of P Macaulay (c) 2012
Photos courtesy of BML and AK (c) 2012
Clip Art courtesy of BMcC
 

 

A great cloud of witnesses

That is what Scripture calls those who have gone before us into that world of light and life that we call eternity.  During the month of November we pray for the souls of those who died and we also thank God for the things that we remember about them, little things maybe that make us smile and remember with love. 

 

 

We think of the journey  through life that these people have travelled, much of it with us and we reach out to them in gratitude for the witness of their earthly lives.  People who die, we believe, do not go from us, but are part of the communion of saints, part of us still.  That is very consoling isn't it?  Our faith teaches us that they pray for us still and we certainly ought to pray for and with them.  If they do not need our prayers to be released from Purgatory because they are already with God in Heaven, then we are taught that those prayers or Masses will be used for someone else who needs them. 

Sometimes people say to us:  "What a dreary month November is!"  We don't like the short days and dark evenings which we get in this part of the world at that time.  But November is a lovely month - a month of hopefulness in the promises of our God.  Jesus promised us life - life in all its fullness both in this world and certainly in the life to come. 

 

The Resurrection event is not a one-off happening - one day, Jesus promised us, we will all be part of that wonderfully changed life. "I am the Resurrection and the Life" Jesus assured us, "those who believe in me will not die but will live - they shall not hunger nor thirst, for the Lamb standing in front of the throne will feed them and be their shepherd." So says the Book of Revelation or the Apocalypse as it was called. 

Read Chapter 19 or Chapter 21 of this last Book of the New Testament.  These Chapters are about the vision of Heaven that St. John was given.  They are so wonderful and give us a glimpse of what it must be like, although our words are inadequate to describe the happiness of those who have won through and are part of the "great cloud of witnesses" around us.

 John describes the sight and sound of Heaven.

He heard:

 

"the great sound of a huge crowd in Heaven singing: 'Alleluia, victory and glory and power to our God."  Then a voice came from the throne, it said 'Praise our God all you his servants, and all those, great and small who revere him'. And I seemed to hear the voices of a huge crowd like the sound of the ocean, or the great roar of thunder answering: 'Alleluia, the reign of our God, the almighty has begun!  Let us be glad and joyful and give praise to God, for this is the time for the marriage of the Lamb". John was told to write down this: 'Happy are those who are invited to the marriage feast of the Lamb!" Revelation Chapater 19.

Then he saw with his mortal eyes a vision of Heaven where 'God lives with mankind. He will make his home among us, they shall be his people, and he shall be their God., and he will wipe away all tears from their eyes, there shall be no more death no more mourning or sadness. The world of the past has gone.'

And what was Heaven like?  Well, full of light and beauty.

"The gates are never shut, and there is no night there, the city did not need the sun or moon to light it, sincer it was lit by the radiant glory of the Lamb of God."

How wonderful - no sadness, no darkness, no fear, no pain.  Only joy and singing and dancing for ever!!

By the way,  Chapter 21 also says that the walls are made up of diamonds and precious stones, and inlaid with pure gold 'transparent like glass' -  This is what God has prepared for those who love him. 

So, to remember that, and to re-read it in the Bible, fills us with joy.  November, then is a month when we get glimpses of Heaven, beside mists, cold, rain and dark nights this side of eternity. 

We all remember those who have left us for this eternal home.  We thank God for them and ask them to look after us.  We light candles to remind us of their lives which are now flames of love and life, and we say "Alleluia!" with them.  Praise God.

 

Have a good November for what is left of it, and then look forward to how it all began here on earth - the lovely feast of the Incarnation.  Take care.

 

 

 

 

There is a Place - Liam Lawton

 

 

Forgiving those who have hurt us

In the Gospel today, we have heard all about forgiveness, determination, finding and losing.  It’s also about the joy of finding.  I know what that is because I’m always losing things, but this was much more than that.  It was about finding peace and joy through forgiveness; it was about repentant sinners coming back to God.  I loved it.

Let me tell you about one repentant sinner who came back to God. This took place many years ago when I was a child, and it actually happened through someone in our parish.

I wasn’t allowed at that time to read lurid headlines in the press, so this is secondhand knowledge. My mother believed that our minds should not be clogged up by bad things when we were too young to understand them.  St. Paul would have loved my mother. Remember, he told the Phillippians to fill their minds with everything that was good?  Well, that was my mother too. So when this terrible thing happened to one of our neighbours, and a friend of ours, I wasn’t aware of it  at first, even though I went to the shop for the Sunday paper and it was all on the front page!!

It gradually became a topic of conversation with the women around the district, and of course I picked it up!  It was terrible.  The eldest daughter of the family was murdered violently in London, and the police were seeking the murderer.  She was the housekeeper for an exiled European king, and moved in exalted circles. 

But there was political unrest and a man apparently broke into their quarters in Knightsbridge or somewhere like that, and shot this young woman dead in the general melee. Why,  I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter. We didn’t know her as she was much older and had left home many years before. But she was local, and we all knew the family.  They were lovely, and it was a terrible sorrow for them. The whole area was agog with the horror of it.

Eventually someone was charged with her murder, tried and condemned to death.  In those days they still had the death penalty for murder.  Everyone breathed a sigh of relief that at least something had been done to find justice for Mary’s death. All that is, except one person – her mother.

 She was in her sixties,  I think. You aren’t good at ages when you’re young are you, but she must have been, because they had a large family; quite a few of them grown-up and independent of the family.  This woman who came from a small village in the North of Ireland, and had probably not moved out much from the big family house she had in Liverpool, decided she was going to visit her daughter’s murderer who was awaiting his execution in Pentonville prison. And that is what she did.

She had to fight her way through all the red tape to get there.  Eventually permission was granted, but of course she would have been closely guarded there in case she had come for her own version of justice!  But what she told this condemned man was that she and the family forgave him unreservedly for Mary’s death, that they did not hold it against him even though it was absolutely devastating for them, and that they would pray for him.. He wept and reputedly, so did she. 

 Before his death  I think he came back to God.  It took an elderly lady with no knowledge of London or the prison system of the time to bring that about.

She never got recognition for it, as far as I know, but she didn’t ask for it, or need it. 

She had God’s approval, and that is all that mattered.  When I saw those moving pictures of the late Pope with his would-be-murderer, I thought of that lady too. Aren’t we blessed with wonderful role models, in spite of all the bad things we hear.  Have a good week!

 

Remember to listen!

We were talking about listening and someone said, "You never let me finish what I want to say!"  Oh dear, what a common thing that is!  It set me thinking of how often I had not listened, but started to assemble my defence when the other person was talking!  Or I had interrupted her saying "Oh, I know exactly what you mean!" Of course I didn't know at all, it was just a way of putting in my oar.

I remember well the first time that I realised that I am not a good listener.  It was the first day of term in a busy Primary School in the West of England.  There was a three-classroom Infants' School and a four-classroom Junior school which was called St. Mary's.  I had never taught what we called Infants then.  My experience, admittedly small, was with older children. 

It had been a glorious Summer, the sun had shone every day in the holidays, and we began to get used to those long, lazy days which provided an excuse to snatch an hour or two in the garden.  But, on the first day of term it poured! I had over forty rising fives in the class.  Those were the days!  They came into the class along with their mothers and the Headteacher who helped me settle a little of the chaos, putting bright blue blazers and macs on the right pegs, and helping the younger ones to change into what they called 'daps' - another word for plimsolls. 

The day went reasonably well, but I decided to start the 'going home' process early as all were bussed to school, this being a rural area.  I managed to get them all into their blazers and macs, and I then looked with foreboding at the long line of wellingtons.  There were a few who had no names printed on the inside rim.  So I started with the lower end and gradually worked my way around the class, telling those who were dressed to sit down in a circle on the floor, ready for a story.  I got to the final few without incident, then I saw a big boy called Michael reaching for a pair of wellies that were smallish, tight-looking and, I thought, definitely not his!  He said what I had dreaded: "These aren't my wellies! "

 

All right Michael," I cut in quickly, "take them off "(I had spent at least five minutes trying to squeeze him into them). He started to say "But Sister.." and I silenced him. "Be quiet Michael, we'll sort it out!"  Looking round, I couldn't see any his size, but I said the only thing I could say.  "Children, take off your wellingtons, and we'll check them to see if you have the right ones." Instant hullaballoo... forty odd pairs of wellies all over the floor. The Head of Infants' came in to see what was the matter, and together we checked and then re-dressed the four-year-olds.  All of them had the same ones on. 

 

Michael, with a red face was shouting something at me.  "These aren't my wellies but...  "You'll have to take them," I said grimly, "we haven't any more!"  "I'm trying to tell you, but you won't listen!" he said.  "They are my brother's but Mum said I was to wear them and she'll get me a new pair tomorrow!!"  As he hobbled on to the bus, I looked at the other teacher,  she burst into laughter, but I felt more like crying.  It was true, I didn't listen, and we nearly missed the school bus.

 

Lesson:     Always let the other person finish before you have your say!

Have a nice end of Autumn, and be careful of the fireworks!

Living in other people's shoes

Many years ago I had a walking holiday in the Lake District, youth hostelling from place to place as the custom was in those days.  I remember standing by Lake Ullswater one fine morning after an open-air breakfast of freshly caught fish which a young fellow in our group caught for me and presented to me the night before to gut and clean!! But they were delicious.  I gazed about me with delight.  It was breathtaking. The air was crisp and smelt of woodsmoke and salty air.  Then I heard a conversation taking place in a nearby group.  I think they were Americans, very friendly and hospitable as Americans are.  One young man said to his girlfriend: "Isn't this wonderful? What a view!"  I waited for the girl to say something equally complimentary about the view or the changing scenery of this gem of the North, but she said this:" I'd rather be in a trash can in New York city!!"

I felt let down and very mad for a few moments.  "What a  thing to say," I mused.  "A lovely place like this and she wants to be in a trash can in New York!!" and I dismissed her as a Philistine, although at that age I didn't really know what a Philistine was but I judged her all the same.  When I think of that occasion now I realise that she was just homesick.  She wanted the familiar sights of home - the people she grew up with, the sights and sounds of a city that never sleeps - lights, noise, familiar accents, familiar smells.  They could keep the beauty of the Lake District as far as she was concerned.  Haven't you felt like that at times?  I know I have. But I couldn't at that time, put on her shoes and see how she felt. I was too young with all the sharpness and decided opinions of youth.

That incident set me thinking about how often we fail to walk in other people's shoes - see things their way. 

I read once about a man who suffered from a crippling condition called locomotor ataxia which made it very difficult for him to control the movements of his limbs.  He went to the local presbytery looking for food as he was homeless.  He was refused and sent away as they thought he was drunk.  It was only much later that they discovered their mistake. He couldn't explain himself so he was dismissed as a drunk and left to starve.  That was an extreme case, but it jogged in me a memory of a similar incident in the place in which I was working at the time.

It is so easy to dismiss people. We refuse to consider other possibilities or to try to see below the surface.  At least I often do.  It is failing to walk in the shoes of others because they are ill-fitting and uncomfortable for us.  Have you ever felt like that?

Blog photos from Microsoft Clip Art and by B Lally and A Kavanagh

Mary, cause of our joy, take and bless our holiday!

It's pouring outside, and if the weather forecasters are to be believed, we are in for a deluge in the next few days!  Lovely Summer weather over this side of the world.  If you are thinking of taking a break here don't forget your umbrella.  

What a prophet of doom and gloom I'm becoming!   Forgive me, in some parts of the world, this news could be good. We need water, life-giving refreshing water, what a gift that is, but we'd like a bit of dry weather in between.  My mother used to say that we must thank God for each day's weather, even if we don't like it to be cold or wet.  It is God's provision.  That's wisdom. So we thank God for today, when the rain is washing the sky clean and bright, the grass is green and the flowers are blooming.  There's another bonus to this rain - we haven't got to water the garden! 

Around these parts, July is  holiday month. The children are home from school and families are together more.  The streets re-echo with the sound of children playing, the shops are crowded with excited youngsters buying brightly-coloured holiday wear, some even clutching buckets and spades! Obviously we are a nation of optimists.

What do you think of when the word 'holiday' comes up in conversation? Waving palms, a turquoise sea, white flecked waves, a deck chair, the latest Jilly Cooper or whatever you fancy in reading material, a glass of iced tequila if such a thing exists or walking on the sand with the wind blowing in your face, the smell of seaweed, cricket on the beach, sand encrusted sandwiches?  Whatever it is, even if it's sitting in our own gardens or back yards, it is wonderful. We are on holiday!

Many children used to put up a tent in the garden when school broke up. You could do that then.  It was a child's idea of living independently, being in a magic place where they were in charge and anything might happen.  Those who did that - can you still taste the black sausages you cooked outside -- why do they taste so wonderful in the open air?  Personally I don't like barbecues much, but they are the more up market version of the Scouts' supper around the bonfire, without the sing songs and the nightly rituals – Taps, the lowering of the flag as the sun goes down, the putting out of the fire, and the inspection of tents of the Scoutmaster or Chief Guide as the case may be.  Happy memories!  If you have never belonged to  the Scouts or the Girl Guides, even for a short time, you have missed a treat!

A holiday from everyday routine is meant to be a celebration of friendship, family togetherness and much laughter.  In the evening, if circumstances permit, find a quiet place, light a candle or an incense stick, and take time to be calm in the presence of God.  You can do that walking by the sea or in the country of course, but it is good to end each day with thankfulness.

When we were at school we used to sing a holiday hymn before we broke up.  It went:

Mother of all that is pure and good, all that is bright and blest,

As we have taken our toil to thee, so we will take our rest.

Take thou and bless our holiday, O Causa nostrae laetitiae!  (Cause of our joy)

Magdalen Taylor would add:  Have a right down good time!  

 We wish you that too.  Enjoy your rest!   

Love was her reason

We have opened June with an explosion of love and respect for the Queen who has just celebrated 60 years on the throne. Sixty years of fidelity, hard work and steadfast devotion to the Christian principles which have guided her all her life.  What a witness!

This month of June is dedicated to the Sacred Heart: it is wrapped up in love.  Perhaps the weather lets us down a bit, but through the rain and the mist we can sense the bright, warming light of love that is the ongoing Incarnation in our world. 

Our Founder, Mother Magdalen Taylor, loved this month because it is all about love.  The love of God for us, the love we have for one another. The sort of love that makes us smile, that helps us to reach out  to those who lack it, so that they can feel better about themselves.

She didn’t believe in some of the pious practices which were popular in her time.  She had a very real and trenchant attitude to prayer.

“Love of the Sacred Heart does not consist in pious practices, but in a real practical love for the Sacred Heart and a realisation of his love for us!” she said.  She added that it must lead to a devotion to those in need.  If it doesn’t it remains merely a pious practice.  There you are.

She  believed that the Sacred Heart always pleads for us. In fact she commissioned a statue of it.

She died on the 9^th June 1900. “Invoke the Sacred Heart” were her last words to us.

So let’s remember that love grows as we exercise it.   Sometime this month, remember Victor Hugo’s words :

To love another is to touch the face of God.

What a wonderful thought for the month of the Sacred Heart: and it is realisable.  Happy loving! 

 

Living in the Power of the Spirit

In the early days of the Second Vatican Council, Cardinal Montini, who later became Pope Paul VI, said that one of the main purposes of the Council was to ensure that the fresh breath of the Spirit swept through the Church.   He wanted families to be renewed, old quarrels mended,  nations to be at peace with one another.  It was a dream, and like all dreams part of it faded into the darkness of reality.  Yet the hope remained.

That was in 1963, 49 years ago.  Look at the world around you. Has this dream faded into antiquity?  No. Has it survived intact?  As a hope, yes! As a reality in our lives? Only partly so.  Why is this? Well we don’t have to look beyond ourselves.  We have been baptized, confirmed, educated in the faith for many years perhaps, and yet we still remain unfulfilled, static even.  Is that the fault of the Holy Spirit?  Emphatically “No!”  We know very well that the fault lies with us.  We lack that spark, that passion, that intense desire to bring about, in our time, a new Pentecost which will transform our world, transform our Church, transform ourselves, so that we become communities of faith, reaching out to one another through our prayer, through our lives.

The First Christians seemed so happy, so alive.  Didn’t  they? They shared their goods, they prayed together each day, they lived lives of honesty, integrity and joy. But reading between the lines of the Book of Acts we see the struggles they had – the differences of opinion between the apostles themselves with regard to the work they had been given to do, and much more.  We see Paul, that loose cannon, thrown among them by the Damascus event, allowing the Jewish converts to keep their food laws, his implacability when opposing Peter, their leader, when he clearly believed him to be wrong.  We see the greed of some of the converts,  Ananias and Sapphira, for example, who wanted to defraud the community of part of the money they had promised them.  It couldn’t have been easy for those First Century Christians, even though they had received the Holy Spirit in a blistering, never-to-be-forgotten way through huge globules of fire that rested over each of their heads.   Is anything that is worth-while easy?

We know it isn’t. But those Early Christians never forgot the experience of receiving the Holy Spirit.  They clung on to it through thick and thin, and passed its wonders and its effect, on to their children and their grandchildren.  It became a reality for them.  A transforming reality that made others say in amazement: “Look how the Christians love one another!”   Acts, Chapter 2: 42-47 give us a picture of the transforming power of the Spirit:

They remained faithful to the teaching of the apostles, to the brotherhood (and sisterhood!), to the breaking of bread, and to the prayers.

The many miracles and signs worked through the apostles made a deep impression on everyone.

The faithful all lived together, and owned all things in common: they sold their goods and possessions and shared out the proceeds among themselves, according to what each one needed.

They went as a body to the Temple every day, but met in their houses for the breaking of bread; they shared their food gladly and generously.

They praised God, and were looked up to by everyone.

Day by day the Lord added to their community those destined to be saved.

(Acts 2: 42-47)

So now we know what we have to do. It won’t be easy, but it will be transforming, alive, joyful, enriching, and life-giving.  We could go on, but it isn’t necessary.  God will do the same for us, if we let him.  There’s the rub, as Shakespeare would say.  We have to give ourselves to him generously, openly, courageously, and he will transform the world through us.  It is as simple as that.  Maybe not in our lifetime, maybe in years to come, but he will do it.

This Pentecost, which is on 27^th May this year, is an opportunity for us to give ourselves again to God, so that the fresh breath of the Spirit may blow on us again and wake us up from our stupor. Let’s start on the 18^th  May and say this prayer as a novena prayer each day.

Come Spirit, who is our light, shine among us;  warm and transform our hearts.

Come Spirit, who makes a home in us, change our way of thinking and acting

Come Spirit, our comforter and consoler, heal our woundedness, soothe our anxieties

Console all those who grieve and ache.

Come Spirit who energises us, keep us from the distraction of fleeting pleasures,

and lead us to moments of prayer and silence.

Come Spirit, consuming fire of love, fill us with enthusiasm for your vision,

That the desire for truth may be vibrant in us always.

Come Spirit, joy of our souls; teach us to dance your dance of love

among the wounded, the lost, the lonely.

Come Spirit, heart and centre of our world, warm the hearts of those grown cold,

and launch us into life!

Have a lovely Pentecost.  We will be praying for you.

Click on the picture for a song on the Holy Spirit