extinction of religion? Not!

This evening I was interviewed by Chris Whitta of Radio New Zealand.

You can hear the interview at this link

a break

Those of you who follow this blog regularly will notice that I haven't updated for a few days. Writing about leisure last week prompted me to take a few days break from the parish.

These days are providing good rest and good recreation with good company.

The word 'recreation' clearly defines the purpose of taking a break. Not a week to blob (or blog) in front of the TV but a time to create anew. That is literally a time for 're' 'creation'.

Back to it now.

women & wells, water & baptism

I see a link between today’s Gospel encounter with Jesus at a well, and Elizabeth Taylor. The Gospel woman had been married seven times. This is not the link with Elizabeth Taylor that I’m thinking of.

Give me a couple of minutes to explain the (perhaps tenuous) connection.

The connection I’m thinking of is the well.

There is a water well in Wales called Winifred’s Well. In the seventh century an unholy young prince wanted to ‘be friends’ with a holy young woman named Winifred. Winifred didn’t want to be friends with the prince.

Things turned ugly and the prince cut of Winifred’s head. Her head bounced to the ground and the bouncing caused a spring of water welled up.

There was a hermit living nearby. His name was Beuno and he happened to be Winifred’s uncle as well. Beuno came to the rescue. He picked up Winifred’s head, placed it back on her neck, and they both…..lived happily every after. Winifred was well again!

Winifred’s Well is well known today. It is the most ancient regularly visited pilgrimage site in Great Britain and the waters of the well are known to have healing powers. Some call Winifred’s Well the Lourdes of Great Britain.

Saint Beuno still well known in Wales. In the mid 19^th century the Jesuits founded a college (now a retreat centre) named St. Beuno’s.

You may have heard of Gerard Manley Hopkins, a Jesuit priest who lived at St. Beuno’s college and remains one of the most significant Catholic and English (language) poets. Much of his poetry was written while he lived at St. Beuno’s.

One of Hopkins’ poems is inspired by Winifred’s well: “The Leaden Echo - The Golden Echo”. This poem is counted among Hopkins' most significant works. It tells of fading beauty, and a new and more eternal beauty emerging.

This poem was appropriately read at Elizabeth Taylor’s funeral last week. The blog (and links below) will take you to clips of it being read by Dylan Thomas (another Welsh artist – who has a delicious reading voice). The second link leads you to the poem being read by Richard Burton who was two of Taylor’s husbands.

You might like to take a moment to listen to the poem.

The image of water (which is the whole purpose of a well) sounds clearly in Hopkins’ lilting, running, trickling language. This is especially vivid in the Burton reading. The sounds of the water bubble even more vibrantly in the words and rhythms of “The Golden Echo”.

The Samaritan woman comes to the well seeking water. I get the impression that she is tired, not only by the demands of the day, but by life. Yes, she has had many husbands, and not even they have provided what she needed. She is not the most popular woman in the town since her reputation goes before her. She makes her daily journeys to the well when others are escaping the heat of the day by taking siesta.

But today she meets a man who changes her life. In Jesus, this woman encounters God. She felt dead. Now she is really alive. Her thirst has been fully and eternally quenched.

The Welsh well legend tells that this was the experience of Winifred too. She was dead and now she lives.

And this started with an encounter. A wake-up moment.

Let’s talk about water wells for a moment. In recent earthquake weeks Christchurch people with their own wells are among the most fortunate. In today’s first reading the people were thirsty and Moses called on God to satisfy their thirst. Water did flow from the rock. But after a few more hours in the desert sun they were thirsty again.

This Gospel reading of the woman at the well is the first in a series of three ‘key’ Lenten readings. Next week we will hear the account of Jesus restoring the sight of the blind man. The following week, Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead: waters of baptism, eyes of faith, and Jesus bringing life from death.

This is the purpose of Lent: to realise anew that only God can give us the degree of life we so desperately (at times compulsively) seek. Once again we let go of habits and routines that unsatisfyingly preoccupy us. This 'soul-cleansing diet' liberates us. Now we are freely able to turn again to God.

We may not feel as though we have had the well-side encounter with Jesus that transformed the Samaritan woman. Neither might we have lost our heads completely and experienced saintly surgery as Winifred. But perhaps the earthquakes have challenged us to reconsider our life routines and rhythms.

In these Lenten days may we know anew, that only daily life lived with God can deliver the life we were created for.

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As they would say on Sesame Street, ‘today’s homily is brought to you by the letter “w”’!

The Leaden Echo - The Golden Echo, by Gerard Manley Hopkins (clicking on the "show more" button below the screen gives the text of the poem)

Read by Dylan Thomas

and below read by Richard Burton

Feast of the Annunciation

One of the moments of Christian history most represented in Christian art, is the encounter between Mary, the future mother of the Messiah, and the angel sent by God. Today, March 25, we celebrate the feast of that encounter.

This is the moment when God became incarnate in human form on earth. While the most celebrated Christian moment is Christmas nine months later, today's feast of the Annunciation marks the moment when God took on human form.

It is appropriate today, to reflect on the role of the Virgin Mary in God's plan. Mary's 'be it done to me according to your word' is rightly seen as the model co-operation with the divine plan.

This is what we mean by "discernment."

Note that Mary did not spend time weighing up the pros and cons of the angel's greeting. Too often this juggling is what we wrongly call 'discernment'.

Instead discernment is simply our desire to know whether or not the nudging / voice / call we feel is that of God or of the evil spirit.

Mary wanted to know whether the message was from God or not. Mary's discernment was simply to know whether or not it was God who was communicatingwith her.

Once Mary knew that this was God, then the only answer she could give was "yes".

This simple and clear desire is built into every human person. If we are healthy, and know ourselves well, then we are not too concerned with how something will turn out. Our sole desire will be to flow with whatever God proposes.

This awareness of the power and wisdom of God's plan for our lives should not make us feel disempowered.

Instead we can relax into the plan of one who loves us much more than we could ever love ourselves.

to Jerusalem

approaching Jerusalem from the South

The phrase "going up to Jerusalem" often repeated in the Gospels (and in today's Gospel reading), has new meaning for me after spending three weeks in the Holy Land last year.

	"And as Jesus was going up to Jerusalem, he took the twelve disciples aside, and on the way he said to them,
	"Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem; and the Son of man will be delivered to the chief priests and scribes, and they will condemn him to death. Matthew 20:17-18

From Tel Aviv, the modern coastal capital city of this land, the road between the airport is a journey through rolling countryside. After an hour the traveller reaches the outskirts of the Holy City.

A couple of hours north of Jerusalem is the Sea of Galilee. This region is lush and fertile compared to the road south of Jerusalem where, within minutes we reach the desert leading to the Dead Sea.

The city of Jerusalem was the religious centre of the Jewish world. Here was the temple, built on the Mount Zion.

Increasingly between now and Easter, the daily liturgy of the Church reminds us that Jesus is not afraid to go to Jerusalem, even though he knows it will be the place of his suffering and death.

In today's first reading we see the same pattern of persecution in the life of the prophet Jeremiah.

"Then they said, "Come let us make plots

against Jeremiah, they said" Jeremiah 18

It's appropriate to notice that at times we are the persecuted. There are times when we feel like Jesus and Jeremiah. We can feel as though other people are making our lives a bit tough to say the least.

This may well be true.

But let's realise too, that more often than we want to admit, we ourselves are the persecutors.

We may not form committees to lead the battle against another. But in much more subtle ways we are willing to bring down the reputation of someone we may not even know.

We do this by agreeing with the gossip initiated by another. (Gossip is any conversation that does not build up the reputation of another person). We also participate in the 'making of plots' against another when we remain silent when gossip is spoken against someone.

Today's readings are encouraging to those who feel battered at times by the comments and opinions of others.

At the same time these scriptures challenge us to never take the role of persecutor.

the Sea of Galilee April 2010

Leisure

I took 24 hours off beginning late yesterday morning. My plan has always been to do this every week, but for a variety of reasons it is often easier to take a few hours here and there. However I know it is the 24 in a row that I need.

Our Creator set the mark when making a point of resting for a full day after the work of creation. Since then "Sabbath rest" has been built into healthy human life".

I recall someone saying to me that priests should come up with more attractive vocations slogans. He suggested: 'join the priesthood, one day on, six off!' You are welcome to challenge me if you think I slip into this mode!

As I took the time off late yesterday and this morning, I spent time thinking about leisure. I suspect that our culture does not do it very well. As a result we suffer. If we don't have regular periods of leisure, we don't have the space to be creative in meeting challenges and the room we need to imagine our way out of difficulties.

Some years ago I fell upon a little book, an old book, by a German philosopher Josef Pieper. His book "Leisure: the basis of Culture" was very well received at the time (1948) and remains in print today.

Pieper encourages his readers to consider that leisure all to easily descends into idleness. Alternatively 'leisure' can be another name for a different kind of busyness.

Originally, "leisure" meant much the same as 'education', that is space in which to contemplate greater and higher things.

Sadly today education is considered by most to be the hardest 'work' of all, and rarely is 21st century school education a space (or encouragement) to contemplate higher and greater things.

For many people, leisure is simply the time to catch up on all the things that a 'working day' makes impossible. This too reveals a misunderstanding of the true purpose of human work. You might like to reflect on Pope John Paul's 1981 encyclical on the nature of human work.

Too many people are so exhausted after the demands of a week that their time off is simply a catch up on sleep and an afternoon at the mall. However we know that when we take a picnic to the hills with friends, nothing is more rejuvenating. We know too that in our tiredness it is all to easy to blob in front of a couple of hours of channel hopping on tv, when to sit under a tree with a good novel, to walk around the park, or to eat and drink with friends provides much more satisfying leisure.

Now that leisure is on my mind, I'm not sure I can wait a week for my next day off...

Second Sunday Lent

I climbed a mountain on Friday.

I mean that in a metaphorical way.

On Friday morning, along with thousands of others, I walked down Riccarton Road to Hagley Park for the Earthquake Memorial Service. We were together a battered and vulnerable people. The last few weeks have taken their toll. We are tired and weary. We feel uncertain about the future. Our homes are vunerable. Our livelihoods are uncertain.

And so on Friday, in solidarity with believers throughout the ages, we ‘climbed the mountain of the Lord’ seeking hope.

To be honest, I was not all that confident that the Memorial Service would deliver the hope we sought. I feared that it might be little more than a series of speakers telling their stories of where they were and of what had happened to them, with a couple of entertainment items thrown in for light relief.

I had no need to be apprehensive. The service delivered all that I could reasonably have desired.

Just before the formal start of the service, we witnessed fifteen minutes of the story of our tragedy. A well-crafted video presentation showed scenes of the devastation in the CBD. While we have glimpsed brief news clips of this destruction, it was difficult to take in a full quarter-hour dose of the disaster.

Then the service began, and continued with hope upon hope of inspiration and encouragement.

The Governor General read from the Roman philosopher Seneca. Our city and country leaders spoke of future hope-filled plans. Artists, people of sound faith like Dave Dobbyn and Malvina Major, inspired us with song. We heard and prayed the familiar hymns of our own Christian experience of grief: Psalm 23 (The Lord’s My Shepherd), Amazing Grace & How Great thou Art.

Prince William reminded us that we were not alone as he shared the encouragement of his grandmother: “grief is the price we pay for love”. We probably correctly guess at the time when she shared that with him.

And then, after a couple of hours, the time came for us to descend this mountain, to come down from this holy place of encounter with God. People gently streamed from the park. But now we were different. Our hope had been renewed. Our courage had been strengthened. Our future had become possible.

I was a different person when I joined the stream of fellow citizens flowing from the park. My hope had been renewed. I was beginning to see that we could be a new Christchurch. More importantly, it was these folk that I wanted to be the ‘new Christchurch’ with. I began to think that the ‘new Christchurch’ could be even better than the ‘old’.

We see the same pattern of suffering - to - hope in today’s readings. The second Letter of Timothy opens with an exhortation to ‘bear the hardship’. And today’s Gospel begins with Jesus taking Peter, James and John up the mountain.

What happened when they were ‘up the mountain’ changed their lives forever. They saw Jesus, their companion, for who he really was. They began to appreciate more deeply, that Jesus is God. While up the mountain, they were filled with hope. This hope was not their own invention or creation. This hope was a divine gift. Their hope was not the fruit of their foursome friendship. Their hope was pure gift of God.

They began to understand the heart of the profession of faith we pray every Sunday. Jesus was “God, from God. Light from Light. True God from true God”. Jesus, their companion, was “begotten (that is procreated), not made” (ie not human creation or invention). And then, as we most powerfully and accurately now profess, this human person Jesus, is “consubstantial” (ie of one substance) with the Father.

Jesus is God.

Friends, this is the heart of our faith. The fact is that we are no more vulnerable today than we were a week before the earthquake. In fact there are none less secure than those who consider themselves to be invincible.

Vulnerability and weakness are a part of our healthy human state. This limitation is not a human problem since God is ready and eager to fill our weakness with His strength. This is the brilliance of the divine plan for human existence. Human persons are only capable of living fully when they allow God to complete their limited abilities with divine strength.

And so we descend the mountain with renewed awareness of our frailty, and renewed confidence in God's presence with us and love for us.

In the Catholic Tradition, every Sunday we climb the mountain of the Lord. This When we come through the doors of the Church we enter sacred space. We begin the Eucharist with an acknowledgment of our weakness and sin. And in the Eucharist God encounters us anew and re-completes us. This event is the ultimate mountain-top experience. If we felt encouraged by Friday's park gathering, how much more life-giving to encounter the fullness of the real presence of God-with-us in the Mass.

If we follow the lead of our Creator, the new Christchurch will far surpass the old in every way.

parishes picnic

It is always a delight when parishioners have initiatives for the benefit of parishioners and friends. Last week at the Darfield Parish Council one such initiative arose.

Mike suggested another parish picnic - there was one last year which was very successful. In the couple of days since the Council meeting the details have been organised and now it is happening.

Keep Sunday afternoon 10 April free. An Irish band, marquee, bouncy castle, porta-loos, tea / coffee / hotwater have been organised by Mike. It is intended to be a gathering of Darfield and OLV parishioners with friends at Mike's West Melton home.

Put the date in your diary. Spread the word to others. It will be a great gathering.

a day to: remember

For me today's Memorial Service in Hagley Park was unexpectedly powerful.

I knew that it would be a good gathering of tens of thousands of Cantabrians. I knew too that dignitaries would speak and artists would perform.

I did not expect the service to be so explicitly and powerfully sacred. I did not expect it to serve to lead us so strongly into a new stage of life in our devastated city.

The 14 minute video that began the service showed scenes that only few people have seen: the devastated CBD. From the opening scenes of our Cathedral of the Blessed Sacrament, to the closing images of the Cathedral in the square, every frame revealed a scene of destruction, a place of suffering, and the rubble that has caused so much death.

After these images, the next two hours were filled with significant readings, reflections, speeches and music.

I did fear that the gathering would be little more than a telling of the stories of what had happened to us. My fears were unfounded. We all knew what had happened, now we needed a new story to carry us into the future. We needed a story of hope. And this hope was the powerful theme of the service. The highlights for me included:

• The Governor General reading from the Roman philosopher Seneca.
• Dave Dobbyn singing "Loyal"
• Ralph Moore (ChCh Search & Rescue leader) reading Psalm 23 "The Lord's my Shepherd"
• Malvina Major singing "You'll Never Walk Alone"
• The 'lighting of the flame'
• Gathering prayers led by Bishop Victoria Matthews, concluding with the Lord's Prayer.
• The reading of Romans 8:37-39 'nothing.....can separate us from the love of God.
• Hayley Westenra singing "Amazing Grace"
• The reading from the Gospel of John 14:1-3,27
• Prayers led by representatives of the Buddhist, Muslim, Jewish, Christian, Hindu and Baha'i.
• Singing of "Pie Jesu"
• Prayers of blessings
• Choristers (Anglican Cathedral) singing "The Lord bless you and Keep you"
• The people's singing of "How Great thou Art" and the hymn that is our National Anthem.

Commentators will evaluate today's Memorial Service over the next few days. But as I sit here this evening I am filled with gratitude to those who organised and led such a dignified and hope-filled liturgy of hope.

Earthquake Memorial Day

Tomorrow (Friday 18 March) the people of the city will gather in Hagley Park to remember those who lost their lives in the tragedy of the earthquake.

Earlier in the morning at Our Lady of Victories we will celebrate Requiem Masses at both 7.00am and 9.00am.

"May these,

and all who sleep in Christ

find in His presence

light

happiness

and peace"

St. Patrick

It's St. Patrick's day. To be honest the day has almost passed without too much Irish celebration for me. Earthquake has taken over most thought and conversation over these days. Tomorrow the people of the city gather in Hagley Park for the Memorial Service.

But now that I'm back at the desk after a day all over the place I am giving Patrick, and Ireland, a thought.

Here in New Zealand we inherited a lot of our Catholic Faith from Irish ancestors. Just half a century ago churches in Ireland were filled daily with worshippers. Irish seminaries overflowed with students. Priests were one of the prime Irish exports to needy nations. New Zealand was one country that welcomed many Irish priests.

These priests reinforced a Catholicism in New Zealand that was a mixture of faith, religion, devotional practices and Irish (famine-formed) culture.

Our NZ parish life has changed in this last half-century. Now there are no Irish Parish Priests in the Christchurch diocese. The 'new' priests in our diocese are more likely to be Polish, Filipino or Indian. Half of the seminarians in our National Seminary Holy Cross were born outside of New Zealand. We benefit from much of the diversity of experience and Catholic tradition they bring to us.

As we remember Patrick who 'brought Faith to Ireland,' it is useful to note the reality of Ireland today. Many consider that the Catholic Faith is in danger of vanishing from Ireland completely.

Last year I was fortunate to hear the Archbishop of Dublin Diarmuid Martin speak at the Rimini Meeting in Italy. You can read the Archbishop's text here. The Church in Ireland no longer appears to be thriving. Irish Catholic schools are filled with people who are 'post' (if not 'anti') Catholic. Many churches are almost empty on a Sunday.

What happened?

Last night I was at a Parish Council meeting in Darfield. It was a good meeting of a great group of committed parishioners. The topic of pastoral planning came up. I am very interested in 'pastoral planning'. I suppose I have a vested interest since it is 25 years before I apply for retirement and (even for selfish reasons!) I want to make sure that the parish is thriving when I retire and that the party is filled with committed and active Catholics.

It is easy for our efforts at 'pastoral-planning' to use all the techniques of deck-chair shuffling or eulogy preparation.

I was made aware of this at an OLV Parish Council meeting last month when the two 'twenty-something' councillors asked why we were considering fewer Masses when we should be focussed on reaching out to more people so that we would be forced to increase the number of Masses we have.

Their challenge has stayed with me very deeply.

What can we learn from both from the energy, zeal and focussed faith of Patrick, and the 20th century experience of the Church in Ireland?

Is there something we need to be doing at Our Lady of Victories, St Joseph's Darfield and St. Therese of Lisieux Chatham Islands, that they neglected to do in Ireland this past century?

I don't have the answer. But this uncertainty must not be allowed to turn us from the essential question.

No, I don't have the answer, but there is something in the passion and energy and faith of two twenty-something year old parishioners, that reminded me of the energy and faith of a young Patrick all those years ago.

the stability of the sacraments

Tonight, during the 6.00pm Vigil Mass, while we were singing the Thanksgiving hymn "Be not Afraid", a 4.0 (Richter) aftershock shook us.

It was the last thing we needed. But we were in the right place. Together, in the Liturgy, we were oriented towards God.

In these days we have witnessed all that we had held to be stable and secure, crumble. Under our own efforts we might be able to survive. With our own resources we can cope.

However it is only with the ultimate stability that we can live. It is God who carries us through every trial.

In this reality we find the stability we seek.

Ash Wednesday

This evening, Our Lady of Victories Church hosted the Christian communities of our neighbourhood to mark the start of the season of Lent.

Reverend David Winfield of St. Peter's Anglican Church at Church Corner preached an inspiring sermon. With his permission this is reprinted in full below.

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I have always had a real interest, a fascination you might say, with words, their meanings and derivations. And this has been the case for the period immediately preceding Ash Wednesday and particularly all that is associated with Shrove Tuesday. Shriving itself is an old English word meaning to make confession, be assigned some penance and hear the words of absolution declared by a priest. However contemporary observance of the day, in many parts of the world, is more characterized by partying than by acknowledgement of sinfulness. For instance the well-known term ‘Mardi Gras’ literally means ‘Fat Tuesday’ and refers to the excessive eating and drinking that might be indulged in immediately before the Lenten fast. Similarly the word ‘carnival’ translates ‘taking away the meat’ and signifies that, for some, the following forty days would mean observing a vegetarian regime.

I daresay most of us will have seen footage of the celebrations and street parades common in certain countries, thronged as they are with brightly costumed revelers. Very often of course the flamboyant attire will also include colourful masks as the participants assume different characters. But that was yester-day, and today, Ash Wednesday we remove the masks, we slip out of our make-believe personalities, and we become who we really and essentially are. No pretence, no deception, no affectation, we lay ourselves open and bare before our God. A rather tragic illustration of this has occurred around us just of late of course as the true structural integrity of many buildings in our city has been exposed. What may have appeared solid and durable has not stood up to the test. Attractive facades have crumbled as the earth has moved.

Appearances can be deceiving , we know that, but they cannot mislead God. A popular saying is that you can fool some of the people all of the time, but the associated reality is that you cannot fool God at any time. As the Psalmist declared “He knows the secrets of the heart”.

Jesus, of course, warned his hearers not to put too much store on the exterior as he took aim at some of the Pharisees who appeared most pious but whose real character was self-serving and lacking in compassion. So this period of Lent becomes, amongst other things, a time for some deep and honest self-appraisal, acknowledging that even if we can fake it with others, even if we can delude ourselves in certain respects – and strangely enough we can – as the Epistle to the Hebrews reveals “we are laid bare to the eyes of the one to whom we must render an account”. The consequence of this awareness may then lead to a greater honesty with ourselves and subsequently more sincerity and openness with others.

As we know Lent has traditionally been used as a time for spiritual disciplines, practices often associated with denying oneself in some way. Fasting can be beneficial in various ways. But it’s really only half effective if it stops at the point of giving up. The real benefit comes when we renounce certain practices in order to assume others, when we fast in order to feast. And if that sounds paradoxical perhaps I can make clear my meaning with these practical suggestions that I came upon recently.

This Lent I shall Fast from judgment and feast on compassion
Fast from greed and feast on sharing
Fast from scarcity and feast on abundance
Fast from fear and feast on trust
Fast from lies and feast on truth
Fast from gossip and feast on praise
Fast from anxiety and feast on patience
Fast from evil and feast on kindness
Fast from apathy and feast on engagement
Fast from discontent and feast on gratitude
Fast from noise and feast on silence
Fast from discouragement and feast on hope
Fast from hatred and feast on love.