Pentecost 2009
Shine through me, Jesus, and be so in me that every soul I come in contact with may feel your presence in my soul. Let them look up and see no longer me but only Jesus! ~ Cardinal Newman
We are called to be leaven—that which brings something to life. ~ Fr. Brian Massie, sj
Dear Friends,
I find it hard to believe that I have been back in Canada eight weeks or so. I arrived home for Easter celebrations and, as I write this, it is now Pentecost. The Easter season is complete. Some days Africa seems only a distant memory; other days if I close my eyes, I can feel the warmth of the sun bearing down on me as if I am still there.
My adjustment back to life in Winnipeg has been mixed. I have so much to process still and much to grow into understanding in the years to come. Fr. Brian Massie, my former pastor, posted a comment on my blog early on, “Follow that star…and who knows what road will take you back.” He was right, as he so often was. I don’t know what road has taken me back or where exactly it is leading me. My re-entry was interrupted a few weeks later by Fr. Brian’s death. He and I worked closely together on a number of projects and though we were an unlikely pair to become friends, we did. He was a diamond in the rough—a man who had fought alcoholism and won, a priest who had ministered to death row inmates in Jamaica, a pastor who came cussing and sharing ideas about Catholicism that drew much fire. Lots of people left the parish and others arrived in droves. For those who did not attempt to understand his style or beliefs, they missed a wonderful opportunity. He and I did not always agree but he was my mentor, my teacher, my healer, and my cheerleader. Everyone should have someone in their life that shakes them up just slightly so that ideals and convictions become clearly known. Everyone should also have someone who believes in you on a level that is hard to describe. He led numerous people to a place of healing of wounds inflicted by the Catholic church and helped us find a comfortable home again in the pews. He encouraged me to step out and find my voice…and find it I did, in new and remarkable ways, in a Church where women’s voices have long been silenced. For that I will be ever grateful. In this unlikely servant, I did recognize the face of Christ, and he called all of us to be that face as well.
As I reflect upon these two major life events in 2009, I see that both the life of Fr. Brian and my African Adventure have me longing to be more of a healing presence in this world. In my final debrief with staff in Kenya, I was told that I had managed to heal them as well as the people with whom we worked. This revelation startled me but I realized that I had prayed that I would be the Light of Christ to the people I would meet. I just was so unaware of what I was doing and how powerfully this prayer came true. In fact, my supervisor said that I had been the star intern. Little did she know the impact of those words. That having left on the Feast of Epiphany, I had tried to follow the star. I had never expected to become the star—the star that would lead others to Christ’s gentle healing. I am humbled by this concept and struggle to embrace its full meaning for me.
I count many African memories as cherished. The most difficult event has turned out to be the most life changing for me. I was caught in a riot in DR Congo and had to remain in my hotel room for almost 20 hours. There will always be people who will tell you that one person cannot make a difference. I beg to differ. I will never forget how my colleague courageously stepped out onto our hotel balcony the morning after the rampage and called quietly down to the soldier who was yelling he was going to kill the teenager he held and that other soldiers should do the same to show the townspeople that they could not riot like they had. She spoke words of truth and sensibility to him and then slipped back into our room. The military soon exited. Elizabeth was definitely leaven that day. What could have turned into a bloodbath became relatively calm. It was not the end of the kafuffle but it did change the course of the day and saved many lives.
I met incredible people of faith whose lives have been far from ideal yet they maintain a deep sense of joy and hope. A lesson waits there for me to live fully into. I saw magnificent landscapes and animals that lead me back to trusting my strongly held conviction that God exists. The sunrises on the Indian Ocean, the giraffes galloping in the Maasai Mara, and the colourful floral sprinkled in the least likely places took my breath away. How could there not be a God? Yes, one could counter that the horrors of the genocides in Rwanda and Burundi, the atrocities currently occurring in DR Congo, and the violence in Kenya after the elections last year lead people to question the authority of a benevolent God. I don’t. In fact, having seen the works of those combating evil in our world and knowing they are firm in their beliefs as well, I cannot doubt and I will not stop trying to shine so that others will see Christ in action. A Light does shine in the darkness. Fr. Brian once said that if Jesus had known only the Light, he would have had trouble finding us in the dark. I am learning to live with both the Light and the dark parts of life: the pain and sorrow and joy and hope. I have excellent role models now in Africa whose life stories are beyond imagining, both in the brightest of Light and darkest of dark moments.
I am not sure where this turn in the road will lead me. I cannot see that far ahead. Faith is not something that gives you a road map, just the tools for walking with the pinpricks of Light for the journey. The partners in Central Africa would like me to come back and do a month-long training session for them. The Deaf Community in Burundi would certainly welcome me again. God willing, I will follow the star that has led me thus far. I pray for the grace to be open to all that will be. I also wish to be leaven—to bring to life the joys and hope that so many people here in the West struggle to find. We have so little to complain about and yet I know how easy it is to fall into that trap and whine about banal, trivial issues. Fr. Brian asked once during a homily, “What have you settled for?” I keep picking up those words now as I wonder where this road is leading. I don’t wish to settle. I long to take a quantum leap of faith and shout, “Your will be done! Make me shine. Make me leaven. Lead me on. May I be more fully Yours. May the world see You at Your brightest through me.” It is a scary leap that requires great courage…so maybe I will just try baby steps for now and know that God is still with me on the journey. God’s love and grace are sufficient while I continue moving in the direction of that guiding star that beckons me to follow, until at last, I can leap.
Shine through me, Jesus, and be so in me that every soul I come in contact with may feel your presence in my soul. Let them look up and see no longer me but only Jesus! ~ Cardinal Newman
We are called to be leaven—that which brings something to life. ~ Fr. Brian Massie, sj
Dear Friends,
I find it hard to believe that I have been back in Canada eight weeks or so. I arrived home for Easter celebrations and, as I write this, it is now Pentecost. The Easter season is complete. Some days Africa seems only a distant memory; other days if I close my eyes, I can feel the warmth of the sun bearing down on me as if I am still there.
My adjustment back to life in Winnipeg has been mixed. I have so much to process still and much to grow into understanding in the years to come. Fr. Brian Massie, my former pastor, posted a comment on my blog early on, “Follow that star…and who knows what road will take you back.” He was right, as he so often was. I don’t know what road has taken me back or where exactly it is leading me. My re-entry was interrupted a few weeks later by Fr. Brian’s death. He and I worked closely together on a number of projects and though we were an unlikely pair to become friends, we did. He was a diamond in the rough—a man who had fought alcoholism and won, a priest who had ministered to death row inmates in Jamaica, a pastor who came cussing and sharing ideas about Catholicism that drew much fire. Lots of people left the parish and others arrived in droves. For those who did not attempt to understand his style or beliefs, they missed a wonderful opportunity. He and I did not always agree but he was my mentor, my teacher, my healer, and my cheerleader. Everyone should have someone in their life that shakes them up just slightly so that ideals and convictions become clearly known. Everyone should also have someone who believes in you on a level that is hard to describe. He led numerous people to a place of healing of wounds inflicted by the Catholic church and helped us find a comfortable home again in the pews. He encouraged me to step out and find my voice…and find it I did, in new and remarkable ways, in a Church where women’s voices have long been silenced. For that I will be ever grateful. In this unlikely servant, I did recognize the face of Christ, and he called all of us to be that face as well.
As I reflect upon these two major life events in 2009, I see that both the life of Fr. Brian and my African Adventure have me longing to be more of a healing presence in this world. In my final debrief with staff in Kenya, I was told that I had managed to heal them as well as the people with whom we worked. This revelation startled me but I realized that I had prayed that I would be the Light of Christ to the people I would meet. I just was so unaware of what I was doing and how powerfully this prayer came true. In fact, my supervisor said that I had been the star intern. Little did she know the impact of those words. That having left on the Feast of Epiphany, I had tried to follow the star. I had never expected to become the star—the star that would lead others to Christ’s gentle healing. I am humbled by this concept and struggle to embrace its full meaning for me.
I count many African memories as cherished. The most difficult event has turned out to be the most life changing for me. I was caught in a riot in DR Congo and had to remain in my hotel room for almost 20 hours. There will always be people who will tell you that one person cannot make a difference. I beg to differ. I will never forget how my colleague courageously stepped out onto our hotel balcony the morning after the rampage and called quietly down to the soldier who was yelling he was going to kill the teenager he held and that other soldiers should do the same to show the townspeople that they could not riot like they had. She spoke words of truth and sensibility to him and then slipped back into our room. The military soon exited. Elizabeth was definitely leaven that day. What could have turned into a bloodbath became relatively calm. It was not the end of the kafuffle but it did change the course of the day and saved many lives.
I met incredible people of faith whose lives have been far from ideal yet they maintain a deep sense of joy and hope. A lesson waits there for me to live fully into. I saw magnificent landscapes and animals that lead me back to trusting my strongly held conviction that God exists. The sunrises on the Indian Ocean, the giraffes galloping in the Maasai Mara, and the colourful floral sprinkled in the least likely places took my breath away. How could there not be a God? Yes, one could counter that the horrors of the genocides in Rwanda and Burundi, the atrocities currently occurring in DR Congo, and the violence in Kenya after the elections last year lead people to question the authority of a benevolent God. I don’t. In fact, having seen the works of those combating evil in our world and knowing they are firm in their beliefs as well, I cannot doubt and I will not stop trying to shine so that others will see Christ in action. A Light does shine in the darkness. Fr. Brian once said that if Jesus had known only the Light, he would have had trouble finding us in the dark. I am learning to live with both the Light and the dark parts of life: the pain and sorrow and joy and hope. I have excellent role models now in Africa whose life stories are beyond imagining, both in the brightest of Light and darkest of dark moments.
I am not sure where this turn in the road will lead me. I cannot see that far ahead. Faith is not something that gives you a road map, just the tools for walking with the pinpricks of Light for the journey. The partners in Central Africa would like me to come back and do a month-long training session for them. The Deaf Community in Burundi would certainly welcome me again. God willing, I will follow the star that has led me thus far. I pray for the grace to be open to all that will be. I also wish to be leaven—to bring to life the joys and hope that so many people here in the West struggle to find. We have so little to complain about and yet I know how easy it is to fall into that trap and whine about banal, trivial issues. Fr. Brian asked once during a homily, “What have you settled for?” I keep picking up those words now as I wonder where this road is leading. I don’t wish to settle. I long to take a quantum leap of faith and shout, “Your will be done! Make me shine. Make me leaven. Lead me on. May I be more fully Yours. May the world see You at Your brightest through me.” It is a scary leap that requires great courage…so maybe I will just try baby steps for now and know that God is still with me on the journey. God’s love and grace are sufficient while I continue moving in the direction of that guiding star that beckons me to follow, until at last, I can leap.
peace/amani/amahoro,
Suzanne
