Happy Australia Day!

Tuesday was Australia Day, being the anniversary of the first European settlement on the continent in 1788.  This was when the First Fleet arrived in Botany Bay from England.  So began the colony of New South Wales, a home for convicts, under British Crown rule.  As you can imagine, this was a rather controversial start for any nation which has its repercussions until today.  

The story did not start there for the land was already populated by the indigenous peoples, the Aborigines.  Sadly, while they were already there, they were not recognized as fellow human beings whose home was the continent that was to become known as Australia.  So the problems caused by this uninvited take over of their land still remain.  

Dispossession of land is serious enough.  What is even worse is the resulting dispossession of one's soul which has been the long term impact of white settlement in Australia.  We all need a home that we can call our own; we all need to belong.  

Belonging is at the heart of being church.  In this age of the pandemic with its comings and goings of lockdowns, we continue to belong to Church no matter what, while being challenged to find ever new ways to belong and to own the depth of our belonging.   

"I came from the dream-time, from the dusty red-soil plains. I am the ancient heart, the keeper of the flame. I stood upon the rocky shores. I watched the tall ships come. For forty thousand years, I've been the first Australian 

I'm the daughter of a digger who sought the mother lode. The girl became a woman on the long and dusty road. I'm a child of the Depression. I saw the good times come. I'm a bushie, I'm a battler, I am Australian 

We are one, but we are many. And from all the lands on earth we come. We'll share a dream and sing with one voice I am, you are, we are Australian" 

So goes the song that captures the Australian spirit, a spirit of diversity seeking to be one.  A spirit that endears the many to belong together as one.  Is that not what we are about as church?  The pandemic is challenging us to truly capture and implant that spirit now in our midst as church.  

Reset, not Pause

"No, I am not angry".  So I told myself on this blog back in October after being offended by someone's misguided comments on me to others.  Then a month ago, I got angry with that person and you know what?  I was wrong back in October.  I was angry.  

Looking back, I was spiritualising my anger, rather than owning it and acting on it.  So it stayed with me.  Spirituality matters but spirituality is not an escape.  Rather it is a key element to living life in the midst of our reality.  Anger is part of life and who we are.  It is neither good nor bad.  It is what we do with it that matters.  Yes, it is a strong emotion and it can be frightening for we know what it may make us do.  Therein is the challenge. 

Anger serves a good purpose in life.  It is a force for change, for working for the better, for facing the hard facts of life.  As  St Thomas Aquinas says, anger "is passion that moves the will to justice".  

So in the natural course of events, one day last month, I unexpectedly let my guard down and shared an honest truth with the right person.  In sharing strong, but honest, words over hurtful behaviour, this led to talk that dealt with the issue at hand.  Not easy but so I dealt with my anger.  I was never angry?  Really?  Well, now I am not.  The anger is gone.  The issue is dealt with.  I feel relaxed and calm again with the person and move on.  

Truth is we all need a place to cry and not just smile; to be honest and not just nice; to express our anger and not just laugh.   This place is possible, it is real but it comes at a cost. It is about doing the hard work to face the challenges of everyday life in ways that are real, ways that work and ways that show respect to all.  Reset, not pause.  

So tranquil, so beautiful; but so cold.  Everything at a cost.

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It surely is not all bad

As a PS to my entry for this week, I offer this edited piece from this week's Tablet from London.  I found it not just supportive but offering a powerful insight into these extraordinary times.   

We must find a new road.

Matthew ends his story of the Epiphany with the powerful image of the Magi, taking seriously the warning they had received, deciding to return home by a different road. With our Epiphany celebrations concluded, we too find ourselves being warned about the potential calamity we face in this present health emergency if we do not change course.  

Like the Magi, the Church has found it necessary to take a different road to arrive at the same destination – a deep union with the Father through Christ, in the Spirit. The closure of churches has in a surprising way revealed to us new ways of celebrating and living out our Catholic faith, contributing to the common good of all.  Thanks to social media we have had livestreamed Masses and prayer meetings, online group meetings and family chat rooms.  In my own parish in South Lanarkshire in the diocese of Motherwell, I know this has led many to a deeper experience of God-in-Christ.   

Paradoxically, the physical separation from the church building and from family and community has opened up for many new ways of prayer and contemplation, together with a deeper sense of union and communion. Our reliance on others, the readiness to greet and help strangers, the appreciation of the little things, the wonder at the beauty of nature, the solitude and silence of the daily walk – these are small examples of the newness to which we have been exposed and of which Pope Francis constantly reminds us.

With the Magi, we feel that things can never be quite the same again, nor should they be; that an end has happened and we are on the cusp of something new. There is a feeling that “to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from” (T.S. Eliot, Little Gidding).  

(The writer continues)

God is not bound by the sacraments. There have always been Catholics unable to access the sacraments due to persecution, a shortage of priests, or for other reasons.  (We may wish) to return as quickly as possible to how things were before the pandemic. The rush to try to restore the “old normal” risks suffocating the new opportunities that are emerging for Catholics in their spiritual journey, their experience of Church, and their Christian living.

In the long Holy Saturday we have found ourselves in over these months, still shrouded in darkness and unknowing, we are preparing to start afresh. We are doing so not alone but with Christ at our side, alongside our fellow Catholics and fellow citizens, waiting, expecting, with trust and hope. We have discovered that we are being offered in so many different ways that root eucharistic experience of personal encounter with God in Christ. Although we have been unable to access the sacraments, the Real Presence of the Lord never abandoned us.

The new bonds of solidarity and communion we are experiencing with each other, priests and lay men and women, the whole people of God and the wider society, have given us some inkling of what synodality, of being “on the road together”, central to Pope Francis’ vision of the Church, looks and tastes like. It is this synodality which will offer a broader space and horizon for laity, priests, and bishops to discern together the new road we must find.

Like the Magi, if we find the courage and wisdom not to rush to return home by the same route we came, we will more surely feel the pulse of the Holy Spirit within and among us, be opened up to divine epiphany, and be filled constantly with worship and adoration of the Lord.

 From an article in The Tablet (16 January 2021) by Thomas Magill, parish priest of St Athanasius’, Carluke, Vicar Episcopal for Mission and Evangelisation in the Diocese of Motherwell.

It's not all bad

Last week, I kept hearing people talk negatively of their experiences of the pandemic.  I know it is no picnic; I know there is a lot of suffering and death; I know about the UK, Germany and the USA where it is so bad at this present time.  Despite all this, our world and life cannot be defined solely by tragedy and despair, even when it may be so overwhelming.   

For me, I experience positives happening in the midst of this pandemic.  That is my experience.    

I have been graced to experience this pandemic through the eyes of spirituality, searching to see where is God in this and to hear what is God saying to us.  In what I discern, I assure you that I have never seen a punishing God, reeking havoc on a "sinful people".  Rather I see a loving God giving humanity a needed kick to remind us who is in charge here and how we need to better our act.   

I am so inspired by Pope Francis' presence and message during this time.  I am with him that we will come out of this renewed, a new church and a new world, where people care more for each other and the planet. I am not naive but hopeful, praying that this be so.   

I have learnt the RSR theme of this pandemic: Respect - Solidarity - Responsibility.  Through the livestreaming of masses, I experience a deep communion with those sharing in these times, with humanity generally.  I know personal stories of growth and discovery arising out of this pandemic.   

It is not all bad.  There are good things happening.  People are reaching out and helping others.  People are finding new and richer dimensions of life.  People are coming together.  There is all the rest as well - the isolation, the poverty, the despair, the violence.  Let us not be overcome by what is but enlivened by what could be.  If nothing else, a time like this demands imagining, visioning and recreating.  As a great friend says, this is not a time for pressing the 'pause' button, rather for pressing the 'reset' button.   

A time for creativity

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Boundaries Matter

On New Year's Day, I had a simple encounter with a neighbour that, on reflection, taught me so much. 

Outside my apartment building, there is a typical outside restaurant of my Bangkok, run by my friend, Nando. It is a natural place where local westerners meet and mix.  On my way home after mass that day, I stopped to wish one regular a Happy New Year.  Near her was another regular who sits there each day working on his computer.  Through humour, I tried to include him in our greetings.  My attempt backfired. I realized later what was at play - boundaries.  Personal boundaries matter.  

My humourous outreach had disturbed him and so broken his boundaries as he is there for work and not for light hearted interaction.  I had not respected his boundaries, even if  innocently and with a sense of humour.  Boundaries matter.    

I further realized that I have been confused for sometime by this situation in my little world as what are  the boundaries being set by this person?  The reason is that he wants to work and not be disturbed, which makes sense, while he has chosen to work in a public and social space, which is ours.  What boundaries is he setting?  How do I respond? 

My confusion is that I do not want to disturb him, while neither do I want to exclude or ignore him, within our common social space.  Despite any confusion, boundaries matter.  I must respect them.  By our encounter, I am now more sure of his boundaries.  He is there to work and so do not unnecessarily disturb him. 

Another lesson I learnt was also key. Listen more; talk less.