you have ALL

Yesterday the Asia / Oceania contingent had the opportunity to lunch with Fr. Julian Carron. Fr. Carron is the leader of the Communion & Liberation community. We are a small group (relatively). Most are from Asia with four from Australia and two from New Zealand. Around the one table as we each shared our experience of God in our lives and local communities, we could see that there was nothing that unites us apart from our experience of God.

If you had watched us at table from a distance you would have been puzzled: ‘what could those fifteen people possibly have in common?’ The entire gathering of 300 for the ‘spiritual exercises’ is a young group. At table yesterday I was an old man (entering my fiftieth year today!). Our gathering is proof of the action of the Spirit of God. Nothing else could have brought such a diverse group together.

It was deeply moving to hear those around the table speak of their lives with God. Some of them (as with the larger group) are from extraordinarily difficult situations. In some of their Asian countries Christians are still a persecuted and insignificant minority. Last night (in the larger group) we heard two young Africans (in their early twenties) speak of seeing members of their families killed in front of them.

Each of the people at table was clearly passionate about their faith. They had put life with Jesus before all else knowing that this decision (and only this) had the ability to give meaning to all the other important dimensions of life. However it was evident too that this decision was not without cost. For many the cost is the feeling at times of feeling alone in their Catholic journey. The people who are around me may be Catholic and a part of parish communities. But does their Eucharistic hour on Sunday really make a difference to their living of the demands and decisions of daily life during each week? Are Catholics in the family and workplace during each week distinguishable from the people of no faith who work and live next door?

Around the table a common call to Julian was ‘come to see us in Burma, Australia, Japan, New Zealand’. He said that he welcomed our invitations and would take them seriously, and then added “BUT….” His BUT was the key: he said: you in your small and struggling communities have EVERYTHING you need to live the life of Faith fully.

We do not need an encouraging visit from anyone else because we are being visited today, in every moment, by Jesus!

This encouragement is the key to the life of faith. How often we can be tempted to think that if we had more support we could be more fully Christian and Catholic. If my friends were more passionate about their faith then I would be too. If those I worked and socialized with took the teachings of the Church seriously then being a Catholic would be easier for me. Well, yes, - but the truth is that Jesus has given every one of us everything we need to be a fully committed and active Catholic. If this is not the fact then Faith means nothing. The life, death and resurrection of Jesus are reduced to historical events outlining a moral code. But Catholicism is not a moral code, it is the embrace of a relationship with the divine, and it is God who does the embracing. We have nothing to offer. But when we accept and respond to the divine embrace we are filled with everything. So, in a very real sense we need nothing more.

An immediate fruit of our acceptance of this divine embrace, is that we (with no effort on our part) are united with true friends. They are drawn to us (and we to them) not because we have similar interest, sense of humour and taste in wine, but because we have been embraced by the love of the same father. We are now sisters and brothers. We are family. In the Eucharist our relationship becomes one of blood. The other members of our family may be living in Burma or Brazil, but because the relationship is not primarily physical, geographic distance is no obstacle to the intimacy we seek.

These notes are jotted again in the small café of this mountain village. It is early morning and in a few minutes we will gather for breakfast followed by a day of inspiration…..ie “inspiration” = breathing. The mountain air is refreshing after the heat of the last few months. This morning it is probably only 5-6 degrees.

My thoughts and prayer today is very much with the bishop and priest of the diocese gather in a few hours to bury Fr. Miles. May he rest in peace. Let’s continue to pray for the happy repose of the soul of Miles, and remember too in prayer Bishop Barry and the priests of the diocese, and the entire faith community of the diocese of Christchurch.

spiritual exercises

For eight hours yesterday I travelled with fifty others from Rimini (on the Adriatic Coast) to La Thuile in the Aosta region of Italy.

The Rimini days have been extraordinary. For a full week almost one million people (mostly young (ie younger than me)) pilgrimaged through exhibits that proclaimed that faith is the only answer to the real questions of life. These exhibits were not “holy” or “pious” but on first glance appeared very secular. What can a display on mathematics have to do with Faith?

Throughout the day we filled auditoria to hear people who had accepted Faith as the answer.. It was nothing less than extraordinary to hear cardinals and media celebrities, missionaries and young people speak with delight and love of their personal experience of God within the Catholic Church. It was evident in their presence and in their presentations that their lives had been transformed by this personal divine encounter, and by subsequent life within this particular (Catholic) community of Faith. The most accurate description is to say that they had been reborn.

And these speakers were all Catholic. (a few were invited to speak from a Buddhist or other non-Christian perspective, but only two or three of the thousands). My earlier blog on the ‘Rimini Meeting’ will give you a taste of the experience.

The Rimini Meeting is organized by the Ecclesial movement Communion and Liberation. It is open to all. The La Thuile “spiritual exercises” are the annual gathering of leaders of the movement from around the world and is by invitation only. There are seventy countries represented and this year (for the first time) New Zealand is represented. In total three hundred people are at the spiritual exercises this year.

The bus journey yesterday was long, (eight hours) but a happy journey from the eastern coast to the Italian Alps – at the foot of Mont Blanc. We arrived in time for dinner at 8 then attended the first session beginning an hour later.

Fr Julian Carron is the leader of the movement and he leads the Exercises. His session last evening was inspiring and moving, in the midst of our tiredness. He suggested that we, along with the rest of the world, were sleeping in the presence of the reality of God’s love. He added that it is rare for us to be awake as Andrew and John were when they first encountered Jesus. But when this is suggested to us Fr. Carron said the sure sign that we are ‘sleeping’ in the face of this encounter is that we become defensive: “no, I’m not sleeping, I know that God loves me.”

But do we really know that in our sin, our weakness and frailty, in our resistance and rejection of God, that God continues to incline over us covering us in His love? Well if we really knew this everything would be different – life would be a delight rather than a struggle. Faith would be transforming and healing rather than (as it is most often) reduced to moralism and legalism.

Fr. Carron finished speaking just before 10pm and we then began Mass. The perfect time for Mass I think: my resistance to anything including God is very low after 10pm!

The cool mountain air is refreshing after the obscene heat of the past few months in Rome and Chicago.

As I write this it is early morning. I took my computer for a walk across the village and found a coffee. Internet access is not easy but I will do my best to keep the blog alive in these last few days of my sabbatical.

When I arrived here last night I was very aware than in exactly one week I will be arriving home. I am very happy about that and looking forward to being with you all once again.

the Rimini Meeting

The Rimini Meeting is an extraordinary event. It is thought that this year almost one million people will attend the six day gathering. It is difficult to convey in words the breadth and beauty of the gathering.

I am most struck by the number of young people. Certainly most are young, like in their twenties and thirties. It is clear too that here they have found something that in some way answers the questions of their hearts.

And this is a Catholic gathering: a community of Faith and friends. Yesterday I was quite overwhelmed to wait with 6000 others who made sure (like me) that we got to our seats half an hour early to ensure a place. These were young people waiting to hear Cardinal Angelo Scola speak. He had us captivated for one and a half hours.

The Cardinal spoke on 'desire, the church, and post-modernity'. His address was direct, robust and inspiring.

THroughout each day there are a series of conferences happening in one of the several auditoria (the picture above is only one of the several gathering spaces).

In other parts of the buildings there are exhibits and displays. All of this arranged and presented through the eyes of Catholic faith.

THe Rimini meeting is a gathering of friendship organised by the Catholic movement Communion & Liberation.

illness and death

It is with sadness that we have prayed in recent weeks for a number of priests of our Christchurch diocese who are suffering ill health, and some who are preparing for death.

Quite unexpectedly a few days ago Fr. Miles O'Malley, Parish Priest of St. Paul's Dallington became ill and was taken to hospital. This morning he died.

As Mons. Tom Liddy wrote once, death is a move "into God's kind keeping".

Fr. Miles is well known to many OLV parishioners since he spent many years as Parish Priest of Our Lady of Victories.

Our prayers in these days are with Miles' family and many friends. We pray too for Bishop Barry Jones and the priests of the Christchurch diocese who have lost a brother.

And we pray too for the happy repose of the soul of Fr. Miles: that he may in these hours be ready to move fully and eternally "into God's kind keeping".

tomorrow to Rimini

Tonight is my last evening with the brothers' community. Tomorrow I travel to Rimini for the gathering that throughout Italy is known as "The Meeting".

Others can better describe the purpose and events of the meeting:

http://www.zenit.org

http://www.ilsussidiario.net

and a YouTube clip

http://www.youtube.com

Watch this space!

It is two weeks today that I arrive back in Christchurch. It has been good to be away, and it will be good to be home.

an exercise in freedom

This week I heard a radio interview with a young man who had decided to live with as little as possible. His website (cultofless.com) has become one of the more visited personal websites on the planet in recent weeks.

Kelly is not too happy being a victim of a consumer age. He is clearly not one who spends recreation hours at the mall. His website lists and pictures all of his possessions. Most of these are for sale. Some he knows he needs to keep. In the interview he very calmly reflected on his desire to live with less. At this stage of his project his possessions fit into “two suitcases, two boxes, with a bed and a chair.”

One of the readings at Mass earlier this week was the Gospel account of Jesus’ encounter with the ‘rich young man.’ I have been thinking about Jesus’ words to this good young man all week: “let go of all you possess, and come follow me.” We usually hear the more casual translation: ‘sell all you own.’ But Jesus is not simply talking about material possessions. More often our possessions are our attitudes and fears, our relationships, our anxieties, our plans and projects. However lessening out attachment to material possessions is a good place to start the journey to freedom.

The radio interviewer seemed quite taken with Kelly’s idea and gave him good airtime. The interviewer’s questions and excitement suggested that he had never before heard of someone doing such an extreme thing. He was captivated by this new idea.

But the idea is not new at all. Such detachment and simple living have always been the Christian ideal.

I recall a community of brothers talking about a practical expression of their vows of poverty and obedience. Every year, when they travelled to meet together for their annual retreat, they had to take all of their possessions with them in a suitcase They also had to take a train ticket back to the place they had travelled from. On the last morning of the retreat at breakfast, the superior gave every brother an envelope that contained a letter of appointment for the following year. Some brothers received new appointments. Others were re-appointed to their present homes and ministries. After breakfast train tickets were swapped and the brothers travelled to wherever God was sending them for the coming year.

Of course this practical example of detachment is a simple exercise of practicing the ordinary reality of everyday human uncertainty. I am healthy this morning, but this afternoon I fall sick. Today I am happy, but in the evening I get unexpected news of the death of a friend. If I am attached to health or to happiness then I am placing a lot of confidence in circumstances or emotions that in reality I have no real control over.

Today’s Gospel reading calls this: ‘entering by the narrow door.’ If we try to keep all the doors open and avoid any life decisions we fall victim to whatever preoccupations and practices the masses promote. We end up just doing what everyone else is doing. Life is given to be better than that. The best moments in life come when I pass through a particular door of the home of friends and eat drink and laugh with them.

So I watch the “Kelly” space with interest. I hope he keeps the website going and updates us with his new living of the Christian ideal of poverty.

inspiration for bedtime

I slept very well last night.

I know why I slept well, and I'm happy to share the secret.

At my ordination as a deacon I made a commitment to the daily celebration of the Prayer of the Church. This prayer is commonly known as the 'Office' or the 'Liturgy of the Hours'. To be honest I have not always found it easy to keep this commitment. There are times when I have allowed other challenges and demands to fill this space made for the prayer of and with the Church.

In these sabbatical weeks, perhaps partly because my days are more routine than when at home in the parish, I have found that the Liturgy of the Hours has become a central structure for each day with times for prayer (often just five minutes) set every three hours throughout each day.

While priests and Religious make a commitment to praying the Office, this prayer is indeed the prayer of the entire Church. More and more people are finding that the praying of these scriptural prayers, with Psalms, Canticles and readings, is the ideal way to remember the presence and love of God at key moments of every day.

And the whole point is that because this is the Prayer of the Church, I am never praying alone even though I am in my room alone. At these moments other Christians around the world are praying. While we might be physically on our own, we are united deeply in God.

And as I pray these Psalms, very often I am not praying what I feel. But this is not important since prayer is not primarily about my feeling. On a day when I am feeling pretty good I may be praying "Out of the depths I cry to you O Lord". But this just reminds me that it is not all about me. Someone else will be in the depths and I am praying in deep unity with them and for them. On other days I may be feeling a bit down down, but they will be having a great day. Yet they will take time in their joy to pray for me "Out of the depths..."

Anyway, yesterday afternoon I was praying Psalm 126: one of the Evening Prayer psalms for the feast of the Assumption. I have prayed this psalm many times over the years but never noticed the beauty of this line before:

God "pours gifts on his beloved

while they slumber"

We are so used to working for everything we have and need ('you who toil for the bread you eat' is the preceeding line), yet God pours gifts on us, even while we sleep!

With that knowledge of God's presence and generosity I turned out the light last night knowing that God probably finds it easier to fill me with love and gifts when I am asleep since I am not able to resist.

You might like to take ten seconds as you go to sleep tonight to remember that while you sleep, God will be at work in you, healing, refreshing, forgiving and renewing.

I guarantee that if you fall asleep knowing this then, like me, you will sleep very well.

missing the point

Everyday I receive by email and text message several commentaries on the scriptures of the day. Sometimes these inspirations and encouragements come from the saint of the day as in the earlier days of this month when the Church celebrated St. Dominic, St Clare, St. Maximillian Kolbe & St John Vianney. On on other feasts the reflections come from great teachers of the faith to help us to appreciate feasts such as the Transfiguration (last week) and today's feast of the Assumption.

One of the daily refiections that I received by email this morning really caught my eye. It was headed up: "Feast of the Assumption of Our Lady into Heaven, 15 August". However in the couple of hundred words of reflection there was no mention of Mary, God, Heaven, body or soul. The content was encouraging, but it had nothing in particular to do with today's feast of the Assumption of Our Lady into Heaven.

For a while this puzzled me. Why would a good Catholic writer allow themselves to 'miss the point' and to avoid the heart of the feast.

I wonder if it is because the Feast of the Assumption (like the Feast of the Transfiguration last week) is beyond our normal routine experience of human existence. These events are more divine than human, so how can we put them into words.

At this point I have every sympathy with the writer of today's 'missing the point' reflection. If I am going to write about the significance of the Assumption of Mary, body and soul, into heaven, what do I write?

The key point is that since the Church presents us this doctrine as a central reality of our faith, we cannot ignore it. We need to engage with the reality. We accept that there are many many things that are beyond our limited human grasp. And instead of being frustrated by this, we delight that there are some realities that only God understands.

On this feast we are focussed on the beauty of the life and ministry of the Virgin Mary. We are also drawn to the beauty and life of heaven.

The years we spend on earth ("seventy or eighty for those who are strong" Psalm 90) are most often a time of anxiety and stress to say nothing of struggle and suffering. But we are created for more than this. We are made for God, who has not only created us for eternal life and happiness, but who seeks to carry us today through valleys and tears.

In the feast of the Assumption we celebrate the reality of Mary, body and soul, being carried by God into the fulness of the life she was created for.

This point is too essential to miss. Knowing that we too are invited to this divine life is the whole point of human existence. To miss this point, is to miss the whole point of life.

Feast of the Assumption

The pope is on vacation at the moment. However for the past five years (since his election) he has celebrated the feast of the Assumption at the parish church of Castel Gandolfo just south of Rome.

Here is his homily from last year.

HOLY MASS ON THE SOLEMNITY

OF THE ASSUMPTION OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY

HOMILY OF HIS HOLINESS BENEDICT XVI

St Thomas of Villanova Parish, Castel Gandolfo

Saturday, 15 August 2009

Venerable Brothers in the Episcopate and in the Priesthood,

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Today's Solemnity crowns the series of important liturgical celebrations in which we are called to contemplate the role of the Blessed Virgin Mary in the history of salvation. Indeed, the Immaculate Conception, the Annunciation, the Divine Motherhood and the Assumption are the fundamental, interconnected milestones with which the Church exalts and praises the glorious destiny of the Mother of God, but in which we can also read our history. The mystery of Mary's conception recalls the first page of the human event, pointing out to us that in the divine plan of creation man was to have had the purity and beauty of the Virgin Immaculate. This plan, jeopardized but not destroyed by sin, through the Incarnation of the Son of God, proclaimed and brought into being in Mary, was recomposed and restored to the free acceptance of the human being in faith. Lastly, in Mary's Assumption, we contemplate what we ourselves are called to attain in the following of Christ the Lord and in obedience to his word, at the end of our earthly journey.

The last stage of the Mother of God's earthly pilgrimage invites us to look at the manner in which she journeyed on toward the goal of glorious eternity.

In the Gospel passage just proclaimed, St Luke tells that, after the Angel's announcement, Mary "arose and went with haste into the hill country", to visit Elizabeth (Lk 1: 39). With these words the Evangelist wishes to emphasize that for Mary to follow her own vocation in docility to God's Spirit, who has brought about within her the Incarnation of the Word, means taking a new road and immediately setting out from home, allowing herself to be led on a journey by God alone. St Ambrose, commenting on Mary's "haste", says: "the grace of the Holy Spirit admits of no delay" (Expos. Evang. sec. Lucam, II, 19: PL 15, 1560). Our Lady's life is guided by Another: "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word" (Lk 1: 38); it is modelled by the Holy Spirit, it is marked by events and encounters, such as that with Elizabeth, but above all by her very special relationship with her Son Jesus. It is a journey on which Mary, cherishing and pondering in her heart the events of her own life, perceives in them ever more profoundly the mysterious design of God the Father for the salvation of the world.

Then, by following Jesus from Bethlehem to exile in Egypt, in both his hidden and his public life and even to the foot of the Cross, Mary lives her constant ascent to God in the spirit of theMagnificat, fully adhering to God's plan of love, even in moments of darkness and suffering, and nourishing in her heart total abandonment in the Lord's hands in order to be a paradigm for the faithful of the Church (cf. Lumen Gentium, nn. 64-65).

The whole of life is an ascent, the whole of life is meditation, obedience, trust and hope, even in darkness; and the whole of life is marked by this "holy haste" which knows that God always has priority and nothing else must create haste in our existence.

And, lastly, the Assumption reminds us that Mary's life, like that of every Christian, is a journey of following, following Jesus, a journey that has a very precise destination, a future already marked out: the definitive victory over sin and death and full communion with God, because as Paul says in his Letter to the Ephesians the Father "raised us up with him, and made us sit with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus" (Eph 2: 6). This means that with Baptism we have already fundamentally been raised and are seated in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, but we must physically attain what was previously begun and brought about in Baptism. In us, union with Christ resurrection is incomplete, but for the Virgin Mary it is complete, despite the journey that Our Lady also had to make. She has entered into the fullness of union with God, with her Son, she draws us onwards and accompanies us on our journey.

In Mary taken up into Heaven we therefore contemplate the One who, through a unique privilege, was granted to share with her soul and her body in Christ's definitive victory over death. "When her earthly life was over", the Second Vatican Council says, the Immaculate Virgin "was taken up body and soul into heavenly glory... and exalted by the Lord as Queen over all things, that she might be the more fully conformed to her Son, the Lord of lords (cf. Rv 19: 16) and conqueror of sin and death" (Lumen Gentium, n. 59). In the Virgin taken up into Heaven we contemplate the crowning of her faith, of that journey of faith which she points out to the Church and to each one of us: the One who, at every moment, welcomed the Word of God, is taken up into Heaven, in other words she herself is received by the Son in the "dwelling place" which he prepared for us with his death and Resurrection (cf. Jn 14: 2-3).

Human life on earth as the First Reading has reminded us is a journey that takes place, constantly, in the intense struggle between the dragon and the woman, between good and evil. This is the plight of human history: it is like a voyage on a sea, often dark and stormy. Mary is the Star that guides us towards her Son Jesus, "the sun that has risen above all the shadows of history" (cf. Spe Salvi, n. 49) and gives us the hope we need: the hope that we can win, that God has won and that, with Baptism we entered into this victory. We do not succumb definitively: God helps us, he guides us.

This is our hope: this presence of the Lord within us that becomes visible in Mary taken up into Heaven. "The Virgin" in a little while we shall read in the Preface for this Solemnity "that you made to shine out as "a sign of hope and comfort for your people on their pilgrim way'".

With St Bernard, a mystic who sang the Blessed Virgin's praises, let us thus invoke her: "We pray you, O Blessed One, for the grace that you found, for those prerogatives that you deserved, for the Mercy you bore, obtain that the One who for your sake deigned to share in our wretchedness and infirmity, through your prayers may make us share in his graces, in his bliss and in his eternal glory, Jesus Christ, your Son, our Lord, who is above all things, Blessed God for ever and ever. Amen" (Sermo 2 "de Adventu", 5: PL 183, 43).

Carmelite interview

While reading for the previous blog entry I came across these inspiring Youtube clips from our own Carmelite community in Christchurch. Tap the link to see the interviews.

Christchurch secondary school teacher Joseph Houghton
interviewed Sr Cushla in July 2008 for a DVD to promote vocations.
He has made the interview available for viewing on YouTube.

saint or sinner?

I am always saddened when well-known people are pushed into the headlines for inappropriate behaviour. Fifty years ago no one would have known. But today every word and action, every text and email is open to public scrutiny.

One of the tragic elements is that it is clear that the person is usually being scape-goated. Unhealthy people are seeking revenge or personal gain by publicizing someone in a bad light.

As one such victim commented today: "I am not a saint. I make mistakes". There is a humility here that is attractive. Such honesty is refreshing in a world where denial of imperfection is the norm.

However this comment does reveal an unfortunate misunderstanding of what it is to be a saint. Saints do make mistakes. Others might comment 'I'm a sinner not a saint'. The same misunderstanding is also revealed in this comment.

Saints are sinners.

In fact it is the saints (as defined by the Church) who speak most deeply and painfully about their struggle with sin.

When St. Theresa of Avila (to choose one example among so many) writes of her sin, do we think that she is making this up? Perhaps we imagine that she is over - emphasizing and unkind thought she once had?

No. Saints really are sinners.

Most of us are happy to live life by the glow of a divine candle. Yes, we have allowed some of the light of God into our lives, but not enough to make us feel too uncomfortable. God is offering to flood us with divine light and life, but we prefer some darkness and a few shadows to hide in. To the extent that we resist the full light of God, to that extent we are unhappy and unhealthy.

I think of the analogy of washing the windows. It is late afternoon and I get out the meths and some old newspapers. As I wash I can see the dirt fill the newspapers. The windows look great and I sit back and admire my work.

The next morning the sun shines directly through the windows highlighting the mess I have made. The windows are streaked and smudged and smeared. They look worse than they did yesterday morning.

God is offering to enter our lives with the full light of the sun. Such divine floodlight highlights every smear and smudge. Every speck of dust is revealed. All sin is revealed. And I see my sin for the horror that it is: resistance to the full and free love of God overwhelming me. This does not feel good. Momentarily I long for the shadow and the candle, but something draws me on. This is God. This is the one by whom and for whom I am created. God is calling me. God is loving me. God knows me for the sinner that I am and loves me even more.

And now, because of my sin, I am on my knees. I am shameful and embarrassed. Like Adam and Eve in the garden I hide and make excuses. But this love will not let me go. I know that it is God I seek and so, as a sinner, I look up and reach out to Him.

And God reaches down and raises me up. Now I am living the life of the saint. Yes there is sin, but because I now see myself as the sinner I am and turn to God for everything, God lifts me up. This total dependance before God is the posture of the saint.

To live as a saint is to stay in this relationship of dependance on God and openness to God. I am now a realist. I realise that I need God for everything, indeed for every breath that I breathe.

So saints are sinners. And it is most often our human struggle and humiliation that turns us to God in a way that invites and allows God to be God for us.

May those who are so eager to highlight the imperfections and struggles of others wake up to their own sin. God give them the opportunity to clear the log from their own eyes before they hurl stones at their brothers and sisters in the human family.

(click first line for youtube link)

O Love that wilt not let me go,

I rest my weary soul in thee;

I give thee back the life I owe,

That in thine ocean depths its flow

May richer, fuller be.

O Joy that seekest me through pain,

I cannot close my heart to thee;

I trace the rainbow through the rain,

And feel the promise is not vain,

That morn shall tearless be.

O Cross that liftest up my head,

I dare not ask to fly from thee;

I lay in dust life’s glory dead,

And from the ground there blossoms red

Life that shall endless be.

a break

I'm taking a break from study for a few days - and a break from the computer. So I won't update here until Saturday.

I hear spring has arrived in NZ!

John

rising sun & 'ad orientem'

This morning I celebrated Mass at the Altar of the Transfiguration in St. Peters. Each morning at 7.00am a number of priests arrive to celebrate Mass at different altars in and beneath the basilica.

There is a powerful sense that the real work of God is happening here. This is not surprising since the ultimate 'work of God' (opus dei) in our time is the Mass. Many mornings I am on my own for Mass. Other mornings a group of English speaking pilgrims will join me. This morning one elderly man prayed with me. Always my prayer is for the people of OLV parish Sockburn and St Therese of Lisieux Chatham Islands.

It was a special privilege for me to by chance be at this altar of the Transfiguration this morning. You may recall my blog entry on the Feast of the Transfiguration last week.

And then later this morning I picked up a copy of the Vatican newspaper (L'Osservatore Romano) and read an article on Raphael's Transfiguration which is behind the altar. Actually the original is in the Vatican Museum and the mosaic copy here was installed in the late 1700's.

After Mass I followed my usual routine of heading to the Blessed Sacrament Chapel in the basilica to spend some time in prayer. On my way there this morning I was struck by the light coming through the windows above the main doors. This reminded me of an interesting fact about the 'ad orientem' form of the priest celebrating Mass according to the Tridentine Rite.

Most people think that the priest simply celebrated Mass with his back to the people. However the original purpose was that priest and people would together face the rising sun, that is 'the east' (literally "ad orientem"). There are not too many churches in NZ built according to this ideal. The Cathedral of the Blessed Sacrament is one of the few in our diocese.

The interesting fact is that because St. Peters in Rome was built on the tomb of the apostle Peter, it was built on the Vatican hill. This made it impossible to be built towards the east since people could not enter from the heart of the hill. It was therefore built with the doors rather than the altar facing the east. This meant that while throughout the world priests were facing east with their back to the people, in St Peters the pope always celebrated facing the people and facing east.

However since 'facing the east together' was so central to the Catholic celebration of the Mass, it seems that the people also turned to face the east meaning that the pope at the altar was now behind the people. (This (people turning to the East) cannot be verified and certainly did not happen in recent history, but the possibility that it did happen does emphasise the importance of the 'eastward' orientation. Certainly the pope has always faced the doors in St. Peters.)

Pope Benedict accepts fully that for many good reasons churches are now not usually constructed to face East. However he does suggest that an unexpected negative consequence of the priest turning to face the people for the Mass has been that inadvertently the priest becomes the visible centre of the action in a way that he never was before. Pope Benedict suggests that placing a crucifix at the altar to be the 'eastward orientation' of priest and people together might be a helpful consideration.

I understood the importance of priest and people facing the rising sun together for Mass in a new way this morning as I made my way across the basilica. The church was flooded with direct sunlight. Had the main doors been open, the altar would have been fully illuminated by the rising sun.

smoking

Everyone in Italy smokes.

Well, that may not be exactly true. I saw four nuns this afternoon and they did not seem to be smoking. They were eating ice-cream. Perhaps they will light up when they finish the gelato?

There is smoking in restaurants and on the streets. Old people and young people smoke. At the bus stop I suspect it is the smoke signals from those waiting, that signal the bus to stop.

This is very different from New Zealand where smokers are an irrationally persecuted bunch. We all accept that smoking is not the best health medicine. But so too are a lot of other unhealthy, even dangerous things that we accept and promote as normal behaviour. Why pick on smokers?

I must admit that I often seek out the company of smokers at a social gathering. They are the little group hiding outside in the rain. I've have always enjoyed the company of people who know that getting wet is not the worst thing that can happen. Perhaps this comes from seven years living on the West Coast?

There is an irrationality about NZ's opposition to smoking, and the laws that enforce bans on lighting up. I first thought this when a parent explained to me that they allowed their 17 year old child to sleep with his girlfriend under their own roof. The did this in the interests of not 'closing doors' on their parental relationship with their son. However these same parents had an clear rule that their child (who was a smoker) was never to smoke in their home.

In a dysfunctional society there are some issues that become the smoke-screen for all the things that really matter. In New Zealand, smoking has become such a scape-goat for many major issues.

So, if you are a smoker you have my sympathy. Let me know when you next plan a 'lighting-up' session, and I may well join you!

Sunday: Mass, brunch, beach?

As I write this I am aware that the Vigil Mass at OLV was celebrated an hour ago. Tomorrow morning people will gather to pray before the Blessed Sacrament at 9, then at 10 parishioners will fill the church for the Sunday morning Mass. Again at 4 people will gather for Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament and at 5 the evening Mass will be celebrated. On the Chatham Islands parishioners will gather for prayer at St Therese of Lisieux Church Waitangi at 10.30, and also on Pitt Island people will gather for Service of the Word with Holy Communion.

Christians have been gathering to celebrate the day of the resurrection for two thousand years. Why? What is the point of doing this? Could we not connect with God in other ways? Are those who choose to walk on the beach or to go out for brunch with family or friends instead of taking part in Mass really at a disadvantage?

Yes. They are at a disadvantage. It is not particularly politically correct to say this, but people who are not at Mass are taking the difficult road. They are missing an opportunity to be filled with God's strength and grace. When they most need it people who are avoiding Mass are missing out on the great gift of seeing life through God's eyes.

We know this. This is why we are saddened when our friends and family no longer see Mass as a central part of every Sunday. Of course we make all kinds of allowances: the world has changed, people are busy. But in the end the Mass is not only important. The Mass is essential.

To be honest the Church may not have helped people to appreciate this too much in the past forty (or so years). But the reality has stayed the same: people cannot live without an acknowledged and expressed dependence on God, within the Church.

When people do come to Mass on Sunday they will be disappointed if they are only expecting a good connection with other like-minded people. More often than not people who come to Mass find a group of people whom they may not have chosen as friends. They will see some people they recognise from other places and who they may not like. But we do not come to Mass to meet friends.

Christians gather for the Mass today, and have for two thousand years, to meet God. We come to Mass because we have not found anything on earth that satisfies all of our human expectations and desires. Nothing and noone around us seems capable of meeting our needs. This is a wonderful moment of human awareness. You see, we are created by God and for God. There are many wonderful things in life. There are many great people. But none of these, nor any combination, is enough for me.

And so we come to Mass.

I may not understand too much of what is going on. While in Italy I have been at Mass celebrated only in Italian and Latin, the homilies and some of the prayers are completely lost on me. But something greater than language and my comprehension is operating here. I am showing God just how small and weak and vulnerable and sinful I am. Those parishioners around me are doing the same simply by their presence and their participation. And God is coming to me in my weakness. In communion we receive God together, and the week ahead seems possible.

And after this ultimate event of divine action in my life I will probably celebrate by going out for brunch, and then a walk on the beach.