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Tuesday, September 21, 2010
   "He even prayed 'with a pen in his hand'" [1] Reviewed by Peter L’Estrange NEWMAN’S UNQUIET GRAVE: THE RELUCTANT SAINT By John Cornwell Published by Continuum, $24.95 John Henry Newman, an English Catholic cardinal and former Anglican renowned for his scholarship and writing, is to be beatified in Birmingham, England, on Sept. 19 by Pope Benedict XVI. The pope is a keen student of Newman’s writing. Pope Paul VI had said that the Second Vatican Council was “Newman’s Council,” because the majority of council fathers and their theologians had imbibed Newman’s views on historicity, the use of patristics and scripture, development, conscience, the role of the laity in the intellectual life of the church, the desire for the unity of the church, and a sober and constrained devotion to Mary. Cardinal John Henry Newman is seen in a portrait in a church in Rome. (CNS/Crosiers)When Newman died at 89 he had spent exactly half his life in the Anglican Communion and half in the Roman Catholic church. His close friend, Richard Church, the Anglican dean of St Paul’s Cathedral, wrote, “Great as his services have been to the communion in which he died, they are as nothing by the side of those he rendered to the communion in which the most eventful years of his life were spent.” The dean referred to Newman’s role between 1833 and 1841 in the “Tractarian Movement,” an attempt by Oxford-based high church Anglicans, through widely circulated and influential tracts, or pamphlets, to bring the Church of England to conformity with its Catholic past. This changed the face of the Anglican church. With Newman’s Unquiet Grave, first published in Britain earlier this year, John Cornwell, an English writer unafraid to address controversial issues (he is the author of Hitler’s Pope: The Secret History of Pius XII and The Pontiff in Winter: Triumph and Conflict in the Reign of John Paul II), has again stirred up passions. But first, Newman. Cornwell has provided a most readable and scholarly account of Newman’s life: an evangelical boyhood in a commercial middle-class family, his years in Oxford as an undergraduate of Trinity College, a fellow of Oriel College and vicar of the University Church. Then comes “the parting of friends,” with his conversion to the Roman Catholic church, his founding of the Oratories in Birmingham and London, his foundation of the Catholic University in Dublin, and his nearly 70 years work as pastor, preacher and controversialist (a term he preferred to theologian). Newman published 36 volumes in his own edition of his writings (and there have been posthumous volumes); his edited letters and diaries fill 32 volumes. Cornwell examines in their context all Newman’s major works, including The Arians of the Fourth Century, An Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine, The Idea of a University, An Essay in Aid of a Grammar of Assent, and The Dream of Gerontius (a poem later set to music by Edward Elgar). Newman’s Unquiet Grave describes how, particularly during Pius IX’s later years, Newman suffered from what might now be called depression: “I am nobody. I have no friend at Rome, I have laboured in England to be misrepresented, backbitten and scorned. I have laboured in Ireland, with a door ever shut in my face. I seem to have had many failures, and what I did well was not understood. I do not think I am saying this in any bitterness.” He also felt increasingly uncomfortable with excessive clericalism, creeping infallibility and Roman centralization. Cornwell reveals how difficult Newman found it, “looking at it in a temporal earthly point of view,” to live in the Catholic church. He had to respond to rumors that he was about to leave it. He confided to Westminster’s Cardinal Henry Manning, a confidence he would regret: “I have found very little but desert and desolateness ever since I have been in it -- that I have nothing pleasant to look back on, that all my human affections were with those whom I had left.” He listed Catholic shortcomings: They were not a powerful organization, they acted in a “second best way in a worldly aspect.” They did not possess “deep, subtle, powerful intellects,” they lacked education, they were not rich, first-class spiritual direction was rare and theological schools sparse. Their advantages, he said, were supernatural. In his last years, Newman was elected to an honorary fellowship of Trinity College, Oxford, in 1877 and was made a cardinal in 1878. He enjoyed international acclaim and renewed friendships with Anglican colleagues. He admitted that the cloud over him had been lifted. The cloud has not necessarily lifted over Cornwell, though his book deserves better than some criticism it has received, for his judgment is sure and careful while his book has become a lightning rod for contentious issues surrounding the beatification. The grave of Cardinal John Henry Newman is seen at the Oratory House in Rednal on the outskirts of Birmingham, England, in this January 2008 file photo. (CNS/Courtesy of the Fathers of the Birmingham Oratory/Peter Jennings)The book’s title refers to the excavation of Newman’s grave in 2008 so that his remains could be taken to a more accessible place in the Birmingham Oratory for public veneration. A brass inscription, some wood and cloth from his coffin were found, but no remains of the body. There were no relics. Newman had ordered that a rich mulch be placed in the saturated clay of the grave to hasten decomposition, an acknowledgement of his sinfulness, deserving of final physical corruption and a return to dust, in certain hope of resurrection. Newman’s strong and explicit wish to be buried with his close friend and companion-servant in the Oratory, Ambrose St. John, who had predeceased him, had not been respected. The burial of the two priests in the same grave had raised questions about their sexuality, that Newman could have been gay and that the translation of his remains was recently effected to avoid embarrassment. Cornwell does not draw this conclusion and quotes Ian Ker, Newman’s biographer, that all of the evidence points to Newman’s being heterosexual. The Times Literary Supplement’s Anthony Kenny commends Cornwell’s sensitive treatment. Cornwell examines Newman’s deep friendships with both men and women (Newman rejected the fear of “particular friendships”), and concludes that “Newman’s greatest gift to the daily lives of Roman Catholic priests may yet be a lesson in the scope for mature, intimate friendship within a life of priestly celibacy.” What really has the critics tripping over themselves to counterattack was Cornwell’s examination of Newman’s subtle views on miracles, and the particular miracle accepted for Newman’s beatification (a Boston man’s recovery from spinal deformities, though there had been intervening surgery). Clifford Longley in The Tablet argues that “the church’s reliance on miracles to prove God’s certification of the [canonization] process strains credulity.” I tend to the side of Kenny and Longley. Finally, it is good to remember the man soon to be beatified. He can be viewed from many aspects, and can be understood only after much searching. He was shy, sensitive, devout, liberal-minded, brave, cultivated, and familiar with the academy as well as the church. He foresaw the loss of faith among the educated classes spreading to every dimension of culture and society. His Apologia pro Vita Sua is still considered one of the greatest of religious autobiographies. James Joyce believed him to be the greatest prose stylist of the Victorian age. Modern scholarship on him proliferates. His companion in old age in the Oratory said that Newman even prayed with “a pen in his hand.” He is an attractive model of integrity and holiness. Cornwell has provided what he intended to write: “a shorter, less academic account of Newman’s life, accessible not only to Catholics but non-Catholics and non-Christians as well.” His interest focuses not on Newman’s holiness but on his character and importance as a writer. He argues that Newman’s claim to eminence consists in his genius for creating new ways of imagining and writing about religion, for “Newman’s unrelenting literary obsession was the story of his own life.” Cornwell has achieved that with a finely crafted work. [Jesuit Fr. Peter L’Estrange is special assistant to the president of Georgetown University in Washington.] Dear english speaking-reading readers, it may be good to have this complement of information which I have, with gratitude from the National Catholic Reporter. Sr Claire-Marie Friday, July 09, 2010
The Church today I think we cannot delay taking Jesus and the Gospel seriously. Kevin Dowling whom I had the great luck to meet and even to work with for a time in a Cape Parish has a prophetic message for me, for us and I am grateful to put it in the English blog Katutura. It speaks for itself. Of course, it would be good to have a debate on so grave a matter. Simply because the Church, a movement Jesus wished, in order to proclaim the good News and build God’s family is our responsibility and Mission! Sr Claire-Marie.  The following lunchtime address was given by Bishop Kevin Dowling CSsR to a group of leading laity in Cape Town, South Africa on 1 June. ''Jerry Fiteaux wrote in the National Catholic Reporter: 'On April 24, 2010, Edward James Slattery, bishop of Tulsa, Oklahoma, celebrated the Mass in Latin in the extraordinary form – that is, in the Tridentine Rite – in the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception. He delivered his homily in English. More than 3,000 people attended the liturgy. More relevant to me in the April 24 event in Washington were several elements: First, there were no demonstrations outside or inside the shrine by clergy sex abuse victims after retired Colombian Cardinal Dario Castrillon Hoyos withdrew as principal celebrant of the Mass. Castrillon, former prefect of the Vatican’s Congregation for the Clergy and former president of the Pontifical Commission “Ecclesia Dei,” which oversees and promotes use of the Latin Tridentine rite in the Roman Church, made major news just a week before the shrine Mass when a French newspaper revealed that in 2001 he had praised a French bishop for breaking the law and refusing to turn over to civil authorities a priest engaged in sexual abuse of minors. Castrillon not only did not apologize for his letter; he reaffirmed it and said John Paul II had urged him to send it to bishops around the world. Second, for the first time in my life – although as an altar boy in the 1950s into the late ’60s and as a seminarian for nearly 12 years I participated in numerous pontifical liturgies in the Upper Midwest and in Washington – on April 24 this year I finally saw the grandiose display of the “cappa magna,” the 20-yard-long brilliant red train behind a bishop or cardinal that has come to be one of the symbols of the revival of the Tridentine Mass. Fifteen minutes before the Mass, Slattery processed up the shrine’s main aisle wearing the extravagant cloak, held up in the back by a young altar server; before the main altar, there was a magnificent turn to exit stage left, at which point the cappa magna stretched almost the entire width of the sanctuary in front of the main altar. Throughout more than half an hour of pre-Mass entertainment with beautiful Latin music by an a capella choir (including Giovanni Pierluigi Palestrina’s Tu Es Petrus and Thomas Tallis’s O Sacrum Convivium) and into the full first half-hour of the Mass, the entire basilica congregation of more than 3,000 sat passively as an audience to a musical concert, with nary a word to say in the liturgy. The shrine’s magnificent pipe organ played instrumental accompaniment to the nearly 20-minute processional as altar servers of all ages (but only males), knights of various Catholic organizations, deacons, priests and a variety of other ministers processed to the altar. Many of the priests and deacons bore pomped birettas, the stiff square black caps once worn by all priests and seminarians in choir. It wasn’t until the Collect that any of the 3,000-plus Catholics filling the shrine’s pews and aisles actually heard a voice from somewhere near the altar. By that point I had come to realize that this Tridentine liturgy was an elaborate ritual manifestation of ecclesiastical rank, not a Mass in conformity with the fundamental Vatican II mandate for full, active participation by the faithful. The Mass marked the fifth anniversary of Pope Benedict XVI’s formal inauguration into his ministry as Pope.. "The Southern Cross about three or four weeks ago published a picture of Bishop Slattery with his “cappa magna” – in colour, nogal! For me, such a display of what amounts to triumphalism in a Church torn apart by the sexual abuse scandal, is most unfortunate. What happened there bore the marks of a medieval royal court, not the humble, servant leadership modelled by Jesus. But it seems to me that this is also a symbol of what has been happening in the Church especially since Pope John Paul II became the Bishop of Rome and up till today - and that is “restorationism”, the carefully planned dismantling of the theology, ecclesiology, pastoral vision, indeed the “opening of the windows” of Vatican II – in order to “restore” a previous, or more controllable model of Church through an increasingly centralised power structure; a structure which now controls everything in the life of the Church through a network of Vatican Congregations led by Cardinals who ensure strict compliance with what is deemed by them to be “orthodox”. Those who do not comply face censure and punishment, e.g. theologians who are forbidden to teach in Catholic faculties. Lest we do not highlight sufficiently this important fact. Vatican II was an Ecumenical Council, i.e. a solemn exercise of the magisterium of the Church, i.e. the college of bishops gathered together with the Bishop of Rome and exercising a teaching function for the whole Church. In other words, its vision, its principles and the direction it gave are to be followed and implemented by all, from the Pope to the peasant farmer in the fields of Honduras. Since Vatican II there has been no such similar exercise of teaching authority by the magisterium. Instead, a series of decrees, pronouncements and decisions which have been given various “labels” stating, for example, that they must be firmly held to with “internal assent” by the Catholic faithful, but in reality are simply the theological or pastoral interpretations or opinions of those who have power at the centre of the Church. They have not been solemnly defined as belonging to the “deposit of the faith” to be believed and followed, therefore, by all Catholics, as with other solemnly proclaimed dogmas. For example, the issues of celibacy for the priesthood and the ordination of women, withdrawn even from the realm of discussion. Therefore, such pronouncements are open to scrutiny – to discern whether they are in accord, for example, with the fundamental theological vision of Vatican II, or whether there is indeed a case to be made for a different interpretation or opinion. When I worked internationally from my Religious Congregation’s base in Rome from 1985 – 1990 before I came back here as bishop of Rustenburg, one of my responsibilities was the building up of young adult ministry with our communities in the countries of Europe where so many of the young people were alienated from the Church. I developed relationships with many hundreds of sincere, searching Catholic young adults, very open to issues of injustice, poverty and misery in the world, aware of structural injustice in the political and economic systems which dominated the world……but who increasingly felt that the “official” Church was not only out of touch with reality, but a counter-witness to the aspirations of thinking and aware Catholics who sought a different experience of Church. In other words, an experience which enabled them to believe that the Church they belonged to had something relevant to say and to witness to in the very challenging world in which they lived. Many, many of these young adults have since left the Church entirely. On the other hand, it has to be recognised that for a significant number of young Catholics, adult Catholics, priests and religious around the world, the “restorationist” model of Church which has been implemented over the past 30 - 40 years is sought after and valued; it meets a need in them; it gives them a feeling of belonging to something with very clear parameters and guidelines for living, thus giving them a sense of security and clarity about what is truth and what is morally right or wrong, because there is a clear and strong authority structure which decides definitively on all such questions, and which they trust absolutely as being of divine origin. The rise of conservative groups and organisations in the Church over the past 40 years and more, which attract significant numbers of adherents, has led to a phenomenon which I find difficult to deal with, viz. an inward looking Church, fearful of if not antagonistic towards a secularist world with its concomitant danger of relativism especially in terms of truth and morality – frequently referred to by Pope Benedict XVI; a Church which gives an impression of “retreating behind the wagons”, and relying on a strong central authority to ensure unity through uniformity in belief and praxis in the face of such dangers. The fear is that without such supervision and control, and that if any freedom in decision-making is allowed, even in less important matters, this will open the door to division and a breakdown in the unity of the Church. This is all about a fundamentally different “vision” in the Church and “vision” of the Church. Where today can we find the great theological leaders and thinkers of the past, like Cardinal Frings and Alfrink in Europe, and the great prophetic bishops whose voice and witness was a clarion call to justice, human rights and a global community of equitable sharing – the witness of Archbishop Romero of El Salvador, the voices of Cardinals Arns and Lorscheider, and Bishops Helder Camara and Casadaliga of Brazil? Again, who in today’s world “out there” even listens to, much less appreciates and allows themselves to be challenged by the leadership of the Church at the present time? I think the moral authority of the Church’s leadership today has never been weaker. It is, therefore, important in my view that Church leadership, instead of giving an impression of its power, privilege and prestige, should rather be experienced as a humble, searching ministry together with its people in order to discern the most appropriate or viable responses which can be made to complex ethical and moral questions – a leadership, therefore, which does not presume to have all the answers all the time…. But to change focus a bit. One of the truly significant contributions of the Church to the building up of a world in which people and communities can live in peace and dignity, with a quality of life which befits those made in God’s image, has been the body of what has been called “Catholic Social Teaching”, a compendium of which has been released during the past few years. These social teaching principles are: The Common Good, Solidarity, The Option for the Poor, Subsidiarity, The Common Destiny of Goods, The Integrity of Creation, and People-Centredness – all based on and flowing out of the values of the Gospel. Here we have very relevant principles and guidelines to engage with complex social, economic, cultural and political realities, especially as these affect the poorest and most vulnerable members of societies everywhere. These principles should enable us, as Church, to critique constructively all socio-political-economic systems and policies - and especially from that viewpoint, viz. their effect on the poorest and most vulnerable in society. However, if Church leadership anywhere presumes to criticise or critique socio-political-economic policies and policy makers, or Governments, it must also allow itself to be critiqued in the same way in terms of its policies, its internal life, and especially its modus operandi. A democratic culture and praxis, with its focus on the participation of citizens and holding accountable those who are elected to govern, is increasingly appreciated in spite of inevitable human shortcomings. When thinking people of all persuasions look at Church leadership, they raise questions about, for example, real participation of the membership in its governance and how in fact Church leadership is to be held accountable, and to whom. If the Church, and its leadership, professes to follow the values of the Gospel and the principles of Catholic Social Teaching, then its internal life, its methods of governing and its use of authority will be scrutinised on the basis of what we profess. Let us take one social teaching principle, vitally important for ensuring participative democracy in the socio-political domain, viz. subsidiarity. I worked with the Bishops’ Conference Justice and Peace Department for 17 years. After our political liberation in 1994, we discerned that political liberation in itself would have little relevance to the reality of the poor and marginalised unless it resulted in their economic emancipation. We therefore decided that a fundamental issue for post-1994 South Africa was economic justice. After a great deal of discussion at all levels we issued a Pastoral Statement in 1999, which we entitled “Economic Justice in South Africa”. Its primary focus was necessarily on the economy. Among other things, it dealt with each of the Catholic Social Teaching principles, and I give a quotation now from part of its treatment of subsidiarity: “The principle of subsidiarity protects the rights of individuals and groups in the face of the powerful, especially the state. It holds that those things which can be done or decided at a lower level of society should not be taken over by a higher level. As such, it reaffirms our right and our capacity to decide for ourselves how to organise our relationships and how to enter into agreements with others……….We can and should take steps to encourage decision-making at lower levels of the economy, and to empower the greatest number of people to participate as fully as possible in economic life.” (Economic Justice in South Africa, page 14). Applied to the Church, the principle of subsidiarity requires of its leadership to actively promote and encourage participation, personal responsibility and effective engagement by everyone in terms of their particular calling and ministry in the Church and world according to their opportunities and gifts. However, I think that today we have a leadership in the Church which actually undermines the very notion of subsidiarity; where the minutiae of Church life and praxis “at the lower level” are subject to examination and authentication being given by the “higher level”, in fact the highest level, e.g. the approval of liturgical language and texts; where one of the key Vatican II principles, collegiality in decision-making, is virtually non-existent. The eminent emeritus Archbishop of Vienna, Cardinal Franz König, wrote the following in 1999 – almost 35 years after Vatican II: “In fact, however, de facto and not de jure, intentionally or unintentionally, the curial authorities working in conjunction with the Pope have appropriated the tasks of the episcopal college. It is they who now carry out almost all of them” (“My Vision of the Church of the Future”, The Tablet, March 27, 1999, p. 434). What compounds this, for me, is the mystique which has in increasing measure surrounded the person of the Pope in the last 30 years, such that any hint of critique or questioning of his policies, his way of thinking, his exercise of authority etc. is equated with disloyalty. There is more than a perception, because of this mystique, that unquestioning obedience by the faithful to the Pope is required and is a sign of the ethos and fidelity of a true Catholic. When the Pope’s authority is then intentionally extended to the Vatican Curia, there exists a real possibility that unquestioning obedience to very human decisions about a whole range of issues by the Curial Departments and Cardinals also becomes a mark of one’s fidelity as a Catholic, and anything less is interpreted as being disloyal to the Pope who is charged with steering the barque of Peter. It has become more and more difficult over the past years, therefore, for the College of Bishops as a whole, or in a particular territory, to exercise their theologically-based servant leadership to discern appropriate responses to their particular socio-economic, cultural, liturgical, spiritual and other pastoral realities and needs; much less to disagree with or seek alternatives to policies and decisions taken in Rome. And what appears to be more and more the policy of appointing “safe”, unquestionably orthodox and even very conservative bishops to fill vacant dioceses over the past 30 years, only makes it less and less likely that the College of Bishops – even in powerful Conferences like the United States – will question what comes out of Rome, and certainly not publicly. Instead, there will be every effort to try and find an accommodation with those in power, which means that the Roman position will prevail in the end. And, taking this further, when an individual bishop takes issue with something, especially in public, the impression or judgement will be that he is “breaking ranks” with the other bishops and will only cause confusion to the lay faithful – so it is said - because it will appear that the Bishops are not united in their teaching and leadership role. The pressure, therefore, to conform. What we should have, in my view, is a Church where the leadership recognises and empowers decision-making at the appropriate levels in the local Church; where local leadership listens to and discerns with the people of God of that area what “the Spirit is saying to the Church” and then articulates that as a consensus of the believing, praying, serving community. It needs faith in God and trust in the people of God to take what may seem to some or many as a risk. The Church could be enriched as a result through a diversity which truly integrates socio-cultural values and insights into a living and developing faith, together with a discernment of how such diversity can promote unity in the Church – and not, therefore, require uniformity to be truly authentic. Diversity in living and praxis, as an expression of the principle of subsidiarity, has been taken away from the local Churches everywhere by the centralisation of decision-making at the level of the Vatican. In addition, orthodoxy is more and more identified with conservative opinions and outlook, with the corresponding judgement that what is perceived to be “liberal” is both suspect and not orthodox, and therefore to be rejected as a danger to the faith of the people. Is there a way forward? I have grappled with this question especially in the light of the apparent division of aspiration and vision in the Church. How do you reconcile such very different visions of Church, or models of Church? I do not have the answer, except that somewhere we must find an attitude of respect and reverence for difference and diversity as we search for a living unity in the Church; that people be allowed, indeed enabled, to find or create the type of community which is expressive of their faith and aspirations concerning their Christian and Catholic lives and engagement in Church and world….and which strives to hold in legitimate and constructive tension the uncertainties and ambiguities that all this will bring, trusting in the presence of the Holy Spirit. At the heart of this is the question of conscience. As Catholics, we need to be trusted enough to make informed decisions about our life, our witness, our expressions of faith, spirituality, prayer, and involvement in the world……on the basis of a developed conscience. And, as an invitation to an appreciation of conscience and conscientious decisions about life and participation in what is a very human Church, I close with the formulation or understanding given by none other than the theologian, Father Josef Ratzinger, now Pope, when he was a peritus, or expert, at Vatican II: “Over the Pope as expression of the binding claim of ecclesiastical authority, there stands one’s own conscience which must be obeyed before all else, even if necessary against the requirement of ecclesiastical authority. This emphasis on the individual, whose conscience confronts him with a supreme and ultimate tribunal, and one which in the last resort is beyond the claim of external social groups, even the official Church, also establishes a principle in opposition to increasing totalitarianism”. (Joseph Ratzinger in: Commentary on the Documents of Vatican II,Vol. V., pg. 134 (Ed) H. Vorgrimler, New York, Herder and Herder, 1967). Bishop Kevin Dowling C.Ss.R. Cape Town, 1 June, 2010 Thursday, April 29, 2010
 Dear friends, Sister Gemma’s text on the Good Shepherd today reflects my own thinking and I am so grateful to her to write it so crystal clear! I profoundly believe that another “Church is possible”, but it does and can grow only from grassroots’ level. Claire-Marie 'If you want to be a good shepherd, you have to learn to think like a sheep' Sister Gemma Simmonds gave the following reflections on Good  Shepherd Sunday, from Our Lady and the English Martyrs Catholic church in Cambridge, on BBC Radio 4 Sunday Worship at 8.10.The texts are Ezekiel 34: 1-16, Revelation 7:9, 14-17, John 10:27-30. 1st reflection The prophet Ezekiel pulls no punches when he denounces the shepherds of Israel. Speaking in God's name he contrasts the theory of how the religious and political leaders were meant to 'shepherd the flock' and the harsh reality of their practice. In recent months we have been experiencing a desperate crisis of leadership within the church, with the media leading a litany of denunciations. Firstly they denounce the small but deadly minority of shepherds who violate their calling through cruel and abusive behaviour. No prophetic words can suffice to condemn this, and no apologies, however sincerely meant, can be enough on their own to heal the wounds inflicted on the innocent. Through the words of Ezekiel, God promises a day of reckoning for such betrayals, and the day of reckoning has begun to fall on us all. Secondly the media denounce the collusion of those shepherds who covered up the dark deeds of abuse under a cloak of silence and religious obedience. In a period when the Catholic church was undergoing a similar crisis of leadership, St Catherine of Siena wrote to the Roman Curia of her day, 'Be silent no longer. Cry out with a hundred thousand voices. I see that the world is destroyed through silence'. Ezekiel contrasts the way in which the shepherds of Israel have used their ministry as a means to exercise abusive power over the flock, and the gentle and loving way in which God promises to shepherd the people: seeking the lost, healing the wounded, strengthening the broken, nourishing the starving. If we are to understand vocation to ministry in the church correctly, we can only do so by taking on the mind of Christ. He did not rely on his equality with God, but made himself as humble as a slave, and submitted even to death for our sake. The pattern of Christ is not one of lily-livered weakness. No one can say that in taking on the religious and political authorities of his day, cleansing the Temple, casting out demons, dealing with the doubts and hesitations of his disciples, that Jesus was not strong. But his strength did not come from relying on the mystique of power or religious charisma. It came from his intimacy with the Father, and from his love of truth. At his trial before Pilate, when he must have been most afraid, he bore witness to the truth. The current crisis within the church does not demand that all those called to ministry should be saints. We will be, as all of us have always been, a mixture of saints and sinners. What it does demand is that we disconnect priestly and religious ministry from the false assumption of power. We are called to have the courage to speak the truth. This means opening our ears to those who have been abused, opening our eyes to where we ourselves have colluded or been complacent about the way in which the church is organized. It also means opening our mouths and proclaiming the truth of the holiness of the church and its members, despite all failings and criticisms. Neither the abusers nor the structures of collusion have the victory here. The crucified and risen Christ has the victory, if we are willing to walk his way. He is the good shepherd, who calls each one of us to be a shepherd in our own turn. Our vocation is to be Good Friday and Easter Sunday shepherds, building a humbler, simpler and more humane church whose structures of governance mirror the loving humility of the suffering servant Jesus. 2nd Reflection I once read a book in which a shepherd remarked, 'If you want to be a good shepherd, you have to learn to think like a sheep'. This is one of the best descriptions of the Incarnation that I know. Jesus says of his flock, 'I know them'. He knows us because he has been one of us, he knows human life from the inside. He claims an ownership over us that is not a proclamation of power but a promise of kinship - this is why he claims that we will never be lost, and no one can steal us from him, because he is one of our own, one like us. This kinship lies at the heart of his invitation to service. We live in a culture of entitlement, which has 'I know my rights' as it motto. In contrast to that is the message of those who follow Christ, which asks, 'how can I serve?' This is not just a message for priests and nuns, a spiritual elite, but for the huge number of people from every nation, race, tribe and language, called by their baptism to a universal vocation to holiness. I have worked as a school teacher, a university and prison chaplain, a spiritual director, and among the street children of Brazil. In each of these ministries I learned far more than I ever taught. In the Christian tradition we often speak of evangelization as something we do for others. We 'bring' the Gospel to those who haven't received it. But we forget that ministry is a two-way traffic, and the Good News of Jesus was preached to me by those I served: schoolchildren, colleagues, students, prisoners and, most powerfully, the poor. It was they who taught me the meaning of vocation. Mary Ward, who founded the Congregation of Jesus 400 years ago, died with her vocation to active ministry for women denied by the very church she loved and longed to serve. Her last words were, 'Cherish God's vocation in you. Let it be constant, efficacious and loving'. If we want to be good shepherds, we need to learn to think and feel like those whom we shepherd. It's a question of entering into and embracing our humanity more deeply, even when that doesn't look particularly holy. It is there that we will find kinship with Christ who shared our humanity so that we might share divine life with him. To listen to the programme on BBCiplayer see: www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00s1p7b/Sunday_Worship_25_04_2010/ Dr Gemma Simmonds CJ lectures at Heythrop College, London University Tuesday, April 27, 2010
 I am so very grateful to John Dear for this excellent text on leadership! I translated shortened parts of it into french for Katutura. Mandela's appreciation of John Dear is enlightening and I will reflect further on it. (the images, I found) Mandela's Way By John Dear SJ Created Apr 20, 2010 Here's a scene I'll never forget -- sitting in the Edenton County Jail with my comrade-in-dissent Philip Berrigan, both of us on ice until the trial for our Plowshares disarmament action, looking up at TV suspended in our cell. Unfolding on the screen was the inauguration of Nelson Mandela, the new president of South Africa. Peter Jennings caught up with Mandela later and posed the question: "Did you ever think, during your 27 years in prison, that one day you would be president?" Mandela's face flickered with a look of incredulity and he answered, "Why, every single day my fellow prisoners called me that." Phil and I threw each other a shocked glance. Imagine such faith, vision, hope, determination and leadership! And single-mindedness. Locked up for years on Robbens Island, toiling in heat hammering rocks in a quarry, Mandela and his friends nonetheless spent every spare minute studying and preparing for a new South Africa. Few could imagine such a thing. But he and his friends not only imagined, but confined as though they were by stone walls and stonier guards -- and a forbidding sea -- they toiled to make it happen. I once spent a week on retreat at a Trappist monastery with several of Mandela's prison comrades, and I asked them how it happened. They spoke of Robben Island as "The University." There, they said, they studied and debated every aspect of government, justice and politics. Mandela assigned one to draft a new constitution, an untried topic for this poor soul. But he set himself to work as best he could, collecting the world's constitutions and gleaning from them the most just and humane provisos. And when the day came, the new constitution was unveiled -- one that not only abolished apartheid but ended the death penalty and unilaterally dismantled South Africa's nuclear weapons. So far, Mandela has far outmatched Obama. Now and then Obama's rhetoric lifts spirits in passing, but his actions conform to wearisome American ways. Like his predecessors, he wages endless war -- conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan interminably drag on. And notwithstanding his recent rhetoric to the contrary, he has funneled yet more national treasure into state-of-the-art nuclear weapons facilities. More, his first duty seems to be to the superrich -- multinational corporations have been handed huge sums from the American treasury. An economic apartheid against the world's poor. Nor, by and large, do I sense Mandela's visionary leadership among the hierarchy of the church. They should be helping us usher in God's universal reign of love and peace. They should demonstrate that same sacrificial spirit and soaring vision. So what to do when leaders don the trapping of leadership but, out of blindness or corruption, don't lead? We need to become true leaders ourselves. It is we who must take a stand, undergo transformation, help one another change. It is we who must pursue the Gospel vision -- even if we harbor clamoring doubts that such a vision is beyond our grasp. And how do we do it? For answers we can look again to Mandela. His friend Richard Stengel, who helped Mandela with his autobiography, Long Walk to Freedom, distilled Mandela's leadership style and listed its traits in a new book Mandela's Way: Fifteen Lessons on Life, Love and Courage (Crown). Here are Mandela's lessons: 1. Know that courage isn't the absence of fear. For Mandela, courage is a choice, an everyday activity, shown in large ways and small. Learn how not to let fear rule your life. Mandela says we have to act as if we are not afraid. Pretend to be brave, Mandela believes, and you become brave. 2. Be measured. Stay calm in all situations because calmness diffuses tension and inspires people to act justly. Mandela's "measured response" was a large reason why South Africa did not explode into civil war. Think, analyze, then act, he would say. 3. Lead from the front. "Leaders should lead," says Mandela. "And they should be seen leading." That is to say, be conspicuous. Serve, act, speak openly. Thus keep the movement for justice and peace going. 4. Conversely, lead from the back. Mandela believes in building a team, sharing everything with one another, and pushing others ahead. We keep the pack moving, he says, by steadying it from behind. It's the way to empower others to take a place in the movement. Ubuntu, he says: Empower one another! 5. Look the part -- a matter of carriage and bearing. Walk with dignity, wear clothes that command respect. Self respect was a key ingredient in his fight against racism. And his deportment inspired others to reclaim their dignity. In public, Mandela always smiled, a gesture to show he had moved on from bitterness and anger. A gesture that displayed hope. 6. Have a core principle; everything else is tactics. Mandela's principle was equal rights for all, regardless of race, class or gender. Not keeping to a core principle diffuses energy. Keeping to it gilds the nuts and bolts of tactics and plans with true focus. 7. See the good in others. Mandela, like Gandhi did, tends to see everyone as virtuous until proven otherwise. He begins with the assumption that one is dealing with him in good faith. His many years in prison taught him how apartheid had destroyed otherwise decent people. Apartheid aside, he concluded, people's equilibrium tended toward virtue. 8. Know your enemy. To convert a resolute political opponent, one must understand him and discover his weaknesses. Mandela studiously regarded his enemies, and learned to understand them. He learned their Afrikaans language and appreciated their interests and their sports (a theme of the recent movie "Invictus"). By this he found common ground with his jailers and opponents. And though sometimes grudgingly, they came to see him as a human being. 9. In the same vein, keep your rivals close. Many in Mandela's own movement opposed him. Young movement radicals, especially -- they embraced different tactics and ideals. Yet Mandela kept in touch so as to be in a position to build relationships and try to reconcile. Likely his strategy prevented the factions from falling into all-out war. 10. Know when to say no. Time will arise when one must draw a line and refuse to concede. Otherwise one compromises his core principle. 11. Don't be naïve; know the game will be long. In prison, Mandela learned to think in terms of "the long run." His perspective was from a historical perch. His goals didn't primarily lie in changing his own surroundings but in nudging history itself. In upgrading social standards. In diverting society down a more humane road. The long-haul view gave him patience, steadied him during set-backs, heightened the wisdom of his decisions. 12. Understand that love makes the difference. Mandela encourages revolutionaries to be loving people, have loving relationships, to have lifelong loving companions. Be loving! 13. Understand, too, that to quit can also be to lead. Mandela's willingness to step down after one presidential term sent a message around the globe: power is not the goal. The goal is a more just, democratic society. 14. Know that it's always both. Which is to say, be comfortable with contradictions. In perceiving reality, shades of gray didn't bother Mandela that much. He accepted his limitations in understanding. And his knowing that he could never lay claim to absolute right made him compassionate to those who opposed him. 15. Finally, tend a garden. In prison, Mandela found himself wanting a garden, and after appeals to the authorities, his wish was granted. The garden afforded him some contemplative space where he could touch the earth and cultivate not only beautiful plants but inner peace. Everyone should garden, he says. These lessons distilled from Mandela's life help me in my own modest efforts for justice and peace. They push me to see beyond myself and my accustomed ways of thinking, to keep the big picture in mind and stay the course. My own summary of Mandela's life would be different. I would focus on Mandela's willingness to suffer, go to prison and die for the cause of justice, and the quiet faith and spirituality that undergirded his sacrifice. I would emphasize his sterling forgiveness, his ability to let go of resentment, and his eagerness to reconcile, even as he still insists social, racial and economic justice and peace. I take Nelson Mandela seriously, and give thanks for his life and witness. And I offer his principles here as we each ponder how to respond to the global crises we face. May we, like Mandela, do our part for a new world of justice and peace, and go the distance.  http://ncronline.org/blogs/road-peace/mandelas-wayFriday, March 26, 2010
 Truth will make you free (John 8:32) For the sake of clarity, I take the liberty to insert this excellent account of the National Catholic Reporter whose address is given below with much gratitude! In this sad affair, truth acknowledged alone might eventually heal the credibility gap between the Catholic Church hierarchy and the grassroot people.Credibility gap: Pope needs to answer questions We now face the largest institutional crisis in centuries, possibly in church history The Holy Father needs to directly answer questions, in a credible forum, about his role -- as archbishop of Munich (1977-82), as prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (1982-2005), and as pope (2005-present) -- in the mismanagement of the clergy sex abuse crisis.Nothing less than a full, personal and public accounting will begin to address the crisis that is engulfing the worldwide church. An NCR Editorial editorial20100326.jpg [1] Peter Isely, left, speaks to journalists as Barbara Blaine displays a picture of herself as a child and a banner saying, "Expose the Truth! Stop Secrecy," as they take part in a demonstration against child sexual abuse by clergy, in St. Peter's Square at the Vatican March 25. Isely and Blaine, both of the U.S, claim to be victims of child sexual abuse by Catholic priests. (CNS photo/Alessandro Bianchi, Reuters) The Holy Father needs to directly answer questions, in a credible forum, about his role -- as archbishop of Munich (1977-82), as prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (1982-2005), and as pope (2005-present) -- in the mismanagement of the clergy sex abuse crisis. We urge this not primarily as journalists seeking a story, but as Catholics who appreciate that extraordinary circumstances require an extraordinary response. Nothing less than a full, personal and public accounting will begin to address the crisis that is engulfing the worldwide church. It is that serious. To date, as revelations about administrative actions resulting in the shifting of clergy abusers from parish to parish emerge throughout Europe, Pope Benedict XVI's personal response has been limited to a letter to the Irish church. Such epistles are customary and necessary, but insufficient. With the further revelations March 26 [2] by The New York Times that memos and meeting minutes exist showing that Benedict had to be at least minimally informed that an abuser priest was coming into the archdiocese of Munich and that he further had been assigned without restrictions to pastoral duties, it becomes even more difficult to reconcile the strong language of the pope in his letter to Irish bishops and his own conduct while head of a major see. No longer can the Vatican simply issue papal messages -- subject to nearly infinite interpretations and highly nuanced constructions -- that are passively "received" by the faithful. No longer can secondary Vatican officials, those who serve the pope, issue statements and expect them to be accepted at face value. We were originally told by Vatican officials, for example, that in the matter of Fr. Peter Hullermann, Munich Archbishop Joseph Ratzinger approved the priest's transfer to the archdiocese, but had no role in the priest's return to parish ministry, where he again molested children. Rather, it was Fr. Gerhard Gruber, archdiocesan vicar general at the time, who, according to a March 12 Vatican statement, has taken "full responsibility" for restoring the priest to ministry. Gruber, subsequent to his statement, has not made himself available for questions. We are told, moreover, that the case of Hullermann is the single instance during Ratzinger's tenure in Munich where a sexually errant priest was relocated to a parish where he could molest again. If true, this would be a great exception to what, in the two-and-a-half decades NCR has covered clergy abuse in the church, has been an ironclad rule: Where there is one instance of hierarchical administrative malfeasance, there are more. Given memos and minutes placing the pope amid the discussions of the matter, we are asked to suspend disbelief even further. Context of mismanagement The first reported clergy sex abuse stories, dating back in NCR to 1985, focused on the misconduct of priests who had been taken to court by parents of molested children -- parents who had gone to church officials, but received no solace. Instead, what they received from church officials was denial and counter accusation. Almost from the beginning of the coverage of these trials, it was clear the clergy sex abuse story had two consistent components: the abusing priest and the cover-up by the bishop. The story grew as more survivors of abuse came forward. What soon became evident was that this was not primarily a story of wayward priests, but of an uncannily consistent pattern by individual bishops. In nearly every instance, bishops, faced with accusations of child abuse, denied them, even as they shuffled priests to new parishes, even as they covered up their own actions. The story was first flushed out in the United States and soon across Canada. By the year 2000, sex abuse accusations were turning up across the globe. In the United States, the scandal flared anew in 2002 when a judge released thousands of pages of documents dealing with the sex abuse scandal in the Boston archdiocese. Suddenly, ordinary Catholics had access to the patterns involved in the cover-up and to the unfiltered language of memos and legal depositions and letters that outlined how church officials sought to protect perpetrators and marginalize their victims. All at once, the public outrage was commensurate with the hierarchy's outrageous behavior. The story would repeat itself around the country: Wherever documents were released or legal authorities conducted investigations, the depth of clerical depravity and the extent of hierarchical cover-up were far greater than previously acknowledged by church authorities. Knowing they had an unprecedented crisis of credibility and facing potential multibillion-dollar liability, the U.S. bishops met in Dallas in June 2002. The whole world, represented by more than 800 members of the press, was watching. There the prelates unveiled what came to be a "Charter for the Protection of Children and Young People." It was intended to protect children from molestation, establishing a "one strike and you're out" policy for offending priests. It did nothing, however, to hold accountable individual bishops who engineered the cover-up. By early 2001, responsibility for managing the church's response to the ongoing crisis was delegated to the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, headed by Cardinal Ratzinger. The Vatican, by then, viewed the crisis as beyond the boundaries of any one national church. Crisis crosses borders In the last decade the story has not gone away. Rather it hascontinuously reared its head in nation after nation, especially in those countries with a free press and independent judicial system. A dominant characteristic of this story is that where and when it has emerged it has done so without the aid of church hierarchy. To the contrary, it has taken lawsuit after lawsuit, investigative report after investigative report, to bring this horrendous story to necessary light. Another part of the pattern of this dispiriting tale is that church officials have never been in front of the story. Always late, always responding, and, therefore, at every step of the way losing credibility. This seemed to be the case once again with Benedict's pastoral letter to Irish Catholics. By the time he issued the letter, the story had moved to his native country, Germany, and had touched him personally. In the past two months, there have been more than 250 accusations of sex abuse in Germany. From the German Catholic viewpoint, the pope's failure to mention anything about these abuse cases has pained them deeply and added to suspicions that the former archbishop of Munich has lost touch with his people. Inexorably, a story that began with reports on trials in a few U.S. cities a quarter century back has now moved up the Catholic institutional ladder -- from priests to bishops to national bishops' conferences and to the Vatican itself. This last step is the one we see emerging this month. The new focus is unlikely to end anytime soon. Time for answers The focus now is on Benedict. What did he know? When did he know it? How did he act once he knew? The questions arise not only about his conduct in Munich, but also, based also as prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. A March 25 Times story [3], citing information from bishops in the United States, reported that the Vatican had failed to take action against a priest accused of molesting as many as 200 deaf children while working at a school from 1950 to 1974. Correspondence reportedly obtained by the paper showed requests for the defrocking of the priest, Fr. Lawrence Murphy, going directly from U.S. bishops to Ratzinger, then head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of Faith, and Cardinal Tarcisio Bertone, now the Vatican secretary of state. No action was taken against Murphy.Like it or not, this new focus on the pope and his actions as an archbishop and Vatican official fits the distressing logic of this scandal. For those who have followed this tragedy over the years, the whole episode seems familiar: accusation, revelation, denial and obfuscation, with no bishop held accountable for actions taken on their watch. Yes, there is a depressing madness to this story. Time after time, this is a story of institutional failure of the deepest kind, a failure to defend the Gospel of Jesus Christ, a failure to put compassion ahead of institutional decisions aimed at short-term benefits and avoiding public scandal. The strategies employed so far -- taking the legal path, obscuring the truth, and doing everything possible to protect perpetrators as well as the church's reputation and treasury -- have failed miserably. We now face the largest institutional crisis in centuries, possibly in church history. How this crisis is handled by Benedict, what he says and does, how he responds and what remedies he seeks, will likely determine the future health of our church for decades, if not centuries, to come. It is time, past time really, for direct answers to difficult questions. It is time to tell the truth. Thursday, March 18, 2010
 Confusion in the Catholic ChurchI am most grateful to Joan Chittister for her clear sighted thinking, her courage, and wish to share with you, dear readers, her search for truth. Sister Joan D. Chittister, O.S.B., (born April 26, 1936) is a Benedictine nun, author and speaker. She is a member of the Benedictine Sisters of Erie, Pennsylvania, where she served as prioress for 12 years. Sister Chittister writes a weekly web column for the National Catholic Reporter, "From Where I Stand". From Where I Stand Divided loyalties: an incredible situation http://74.63.36.138/blogs/where-i-stand/divided-loyalties-incredible-situation By Joan Chittister Created Mar 17, 2010 For all the certainty about the facts of the case, there is still an aura of discontent everywhere about the situation surrounding clerical sex abuse in the church. No one disputes the data now; everyone disputes the nature of the problem. And worse than that, the data simply keeps piling up on all sides. First, the world called it an "American problem." As in, those Americans are a wild bunch anyway, what else can you expect?" The Vatican went so far as to dismiss the issue as simply another demonstration of American exaggeration -- what the Irish call the American tendency to be "over the top." Then Ireland found itself engulfed in the problem and suddenly the outrage was no longer seen as "over the top." On the contrary, it became a display of integrity. Nor were the numbers seen as being exaggerated by the media. On the contrary, the numbers of child victims, the world began to understand, had, if anything, been minimized. Now, the boil has broken in Europe, too: in the Netherlands, in Austria, in Germany, and, oh yes, in the Vatican, as well. Now, the United States is no longer seen as being hysterical about a non-problem but early in its confrontation of it, also a decidedly American trait. But what, precisely, is "it?" What is the real problem? Note well: After stories of the first few high-profile cases of serial rapes and molestations and their unheard of numbers died down, the focus shifted away from individual clerical rapists to the unmasking of what was now obviously a systemic problem. This prevailing practice of Episcopal cover-ups, of moving offenders from one parish to another rather than expose them either to legal accountability or to moral censure in the public arena, occupied the spotlight. It was a practice that saved the reputation of the church at the expense of children. It traded innocence for image. But we know all of that. So why doesn't all of this just settle down and go away? Why won't these people -- these survivors -- "just forget about it," some people said. The answers to that question is both personal and social. For some, of course, the need to expose their experiences comes out of the need to heal themselves by reclaiming a sense of control over their lives. To stop living in the shadow of victimhood and powerlessness. For others of them, it was because, having had their secret shame exposed, they now found the courage themselves to speak out about the unspeakable ghost that had for so long haunted their lives. But it is also possible that the survivors go on drawing our attention to the situation because, this time, consciously or unconsciously, they are trying to warn us of a second aspect of the problem, still largely undefined, that is at least as serious -- even the incubator, in fact -- of the obvious issues of cover-up and concealment. This time, however, it is Ireland, not America, that is ripping away the veil from this even deeper dimension, the one that moves beyond the problems of sexual repression and institutional face-saving. The unmasking of this context requires changes in the church that are in ways more serious -- and certainly as important -- as is the awareness of the danger of the sexual abuse itself. The dilemma that really threatens the future of the church is a distorted notion of the vow of obedience and the tension it creates between loyalty to the Gospel and loyalty to the institution -- translate: "system." In this case, the problem swirls around Ireland's Primate, Cardinal Sean Brady, a good man with a good heart and a good reputation. Until now. In 1975, then Fr. Sean Brady, a newly certified canon lawyer and secretary to then Bishop Francis McKiernan, now deceased, in the diocese of Kilmore, took testimony from two young boys abused by the serial rapist Fr. Brendan Smyth. At the end of those interviews, Brady exacted a vow of silence from the boys, which effectively protected Smyth from public censure and enabled him to go on abusing children -- including in the United States -- for another 18 years. Brady, too, said nothing to any one about the case, other than to his bishop, ever again. Not to the guardian, not to the courts, not even to the bishops to whose dioceses Smyth had then been sent. Challenged now to resign because of that failure to give evidence of a crime, Brady's answer is the Nuremberg defence: He was only following orders; he did not have the responsibility to make any reports other than to his bishop; he was only a note-taker. All of these elements of the situation are now in hot dispute. But the question is deeper than the simple ones of role and organizational responsibility. The question is why would a good man with a good heart, as he surely is, think twice about his responsibility to take moral and legal steps to stop a child predator from preying on more children everywhere, some of them for years at a time? The answer to that question is a simple one: It is that the kind of "blind obedience" once theologized as the ultimate step to holiness, is itself blind. It blinds a person to the insights and foresight and moral perspective of anyone other than an authority figure. Blind obedience is itself an abuse of human morality. It is a misuse of the human soul in the name of religious commitment. It is a sin against individual conscience. It makes moral children of the adults from whom moral agency is required. It makes a vow, which is meant to require religious figures to listen always to the law of God, beholden first to the laws of very human organizations in the person of very human authorities. It is a law that isn't even working in the military and can never substitute for personal morality. From where I stand, if there are any in whom we should be able to presume a strong conscience and an even stronger commitment to the public welfare; it is surely the priests and religious of the church. But if that is the case, then the church must also review its theology of obedience so that those of good heart can become real moral leaders rather than simply agents of  the institution. A bifurcation of loyalties that requires religious to put canon law above civil law and moral law puts us in a situation where the keepers of religion may themselves become one of the greatest dangers to the credibility -- and the morality -- of the church itself.Tuesday, February 16, 2010
 Ash Wesnesday On the swiss Jura peasant farm, our mother went to church and gave us Kids, a few ashes she got from the priest to put on our head and it was a gentle pious form of fun for us! We knew our lunch would be macaronis with grated cheese and an « oeuf au miroir » each. Plus spinach and that was that. In the Swiss Sisters House it was more complicated, solemn imposition of ashes on our veil and prayers. As to fasting, the priests instructed us about « fasting in spirit » letting go of our affection for home, parents and relatives. I didn't like that. In our African Mission, Ash Wednesday wasn't terribly different from other days as far as food, comfort were concerned. As for affection and feeling, we lived day by day what we had and what we didn't have. Like the township people around us, we had modest food, we ate less and when there was more food, we really could enjoy a square meal no matter when! The poor do just that. We couldn't capitalize on food unless it was dry food like flour and mealie meal. Fridges were few and far between and when there were any around, we were not sure that electricity would be working non stop. Just to say that fasting can be more natural when we are reasonable, normally poor than when you refrain from eating because you want to loose some weight or because the Church says so. So it's rather confusing to come back from Africa's simplicity to European obeying rules of fasting without having to feel hungry anyway. But Oh! I remember well our singing; « Lord, for tomorrow and its needs I do not pray; Keep me, my God, from stain of sin just for today. Help me to labor earnestly and duly pray; Let me be kind in word and deed, Father, today. » Hundred of young students sang in african harmony, spontaneous, unwritten, just springing from the very depth of our collective soul! And Oh!, with Martin Luther King in the Spirit of Jesus during his « Lenten and fasting life in Palestine » even up to today: "We shall over come some day, to day, I do believe it! " It is so natural to fast, when you are in real solidarity with the poor, that you are not even aware that you're fasting! And fasting means sharing: « Let us break bread together on our knees » . Break and share our daily bread at table allows us to break and share the bread of life in the eucharist! What a profound eucharistic theology of the street people of God! During this fasting season, month in and month out, life was teaching me the Good News that I thought I had to bring to the poor. Just the opposite happened: the poor taught me the Gospel of Christ. And we grew together, even up to now, along the road to conversion. For fasting means sharing beyond and before all praying! Sharing and fasting is praying in the most authentic manner a man can do... and listen to the call for justice at our doorsteps and far beyond: "What good are your tears? They will not spare the dying their anguish. What good is your concern to a child sick of living, waiting to perish? What good, the warm benevolence of tears without action? What help, the eloquence of prayers, or a pleasant benediction? Before this day is gone,how many more will die with bellies swollen, wasted limbs, and eyes too parched to cry?" (Michael R. Burch) So dear God, be my inspiration and my stength to fast with those who have no choice but fast from birth to death!  Saturday, January 02, 2010
 Epiphany It was usually on January 6th, that we rejoiced at the wise men's visit to the little one sheltered in a sheperds' hut. Nornally, we could think that baby Jesus would have been about two weeks old. But « time » can't be measured when it's a question of looking for someone loved! The wise men may have been three or many more. Pilgrim in search of meaning, yesterday and today, with one great thirst for beauty and light and truth. These men were astronomers in their hearts, they kept looking up to the sky to find in the milky way, the WAY! Like us today, the Truth seekers were stars driven and children bound. They travelled on and on from the East, it is said, until the star's gentle light stopped and lit a baby's tiny body. Like a glowworm!  They eventually got so far and put their wisdom at the feet of the whole wise New Born. King of my heart and of yours! A most gentle King!So deeply aware that a New born world lay there, a new born people spreading its roots to live and to love and to do God's work in the midst of on-going chaos! Epipany urges me to manifest the good that is in me and in others through and beyond shadows and thorns! As E. Hays says so well, speaking my mind as he speaks his: « Help me disregard my limitations, shake off the inertia of aging, and plant seeds of a new tomorrows, fertilizing them with enthusiasm ». |
