People have the power

 

"People have the power" is a song by Patti and Fred Sonic Smith that I accidentally and happily discovered on Facebook.  This powerful song was my introduction to the Smiths.  On hearing it, I immediately named as my song for Holy Week.  It certainly gets my award.  

In writing the song, Patti Smith says, "What we wanted to do was remind the listener of their individual power but also of the collective power of the people, how we can do anything.  That's why at the end, it goes: 'I believe everything we dream can come to pass, through our union we can turn the world around, we can turn the earth's revolution.'"  

Holy Week this year began on 24th March, the feast of Oscar Romero, the archbishop of San Salvador, shot dead while offering mass.  Why?  Simply because he followed the gospel, in standing up for his oppressed people.  His waa a struggle of hope, arising from his commitment to building the Kingdom of God.   

The Easter moon is a sign to the world of this hope eternal.  We all have a reason, a purpose, a place in being here.  We make the world turn around.  The real power in life is at the grassroots with the people.  Holy Week has its focus on the sruggles of the people in life.  Easter takes it to the next level, with its focus on how our struggles are transformed to give new life to a world, so desperately overcome by so much human greed, aggression and craziness, which are part of the human narrative, but not the end of it, by any means.  Power to the people!   

   

 

Patience is a virtue

My sister is ever telling me - "Patience, Johnny".  I guess it is not one of my greatest virtues.  Well, last week I escaped to upcountry Thailand, in the northeast region, named Isan, for a bit of fresh and quiet.  It was "desert time", as I would say. 

There, as I quietly spent my short time, joining in life and watching the locals, I noticed their patience. They have lives to live and things to do, within the tough environment of rural Thailand, with its heat and varied limitations of a challenging rural existence, somewhat isolated from the lures of the big city.  In the midst of it all, its ups and downs, its dramas and traumas, they just get on with their daily routine, they're happy with their lot, they continue to ever thrive enjoying their family and love the place they call home.  I guess that is what matters in life. 

Living in a big city, being so western and critical in my approach to life, I can make life more complicated than it needs to be and become overly anxious about what should be.  There is something to be said for patience, while still keeping a watchful eye on life and its comings and goings.  .  

I needed my "desert time". not to escape reality, but to be able to appreciate it more deeply and live it more wholesomely.  I learnt from the people with whom I shared my desert.  I came to see them in a new light - as good and simple people, who work and struggle in life, loving and enjoying their family, continuing the daily chores.  I found that refreshing and life giving. The desert is a fertile place.  

 

The land is fertile

     

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Control doesn't work

We are mid-way through Lent and I hope I am learning something about life and me.  If I may be bold enough to venture an insight from my own journey into the desert this Lent, I am ever re-affirmed in a key life motif - control does not work.  Truth is there is only one person in control, and that is God, who has her own ways of keeping the show going, despite whatever we may do.  Thank God.  

Knowing who is in charge reassures me, as life then, in no way, depends on me.  Thank God, yet again.  

Last week, I participated in an international gathering of church partners, working on opposing human trafficking.  When I first walked in the room, I saw how few were there, but then I was immediately struck by their diversity and strength.  Each person represented a different country and each one was so strong.  So here was a group not to be misjudged or underestimated.  Control doesn't work.  

I have a simple encounter on the bus, on the way to work.  The conductor, a more mature woman, and I have a dispute over my fare.  I get the bus every day and I know how much I pay, which is what I paid her.  She continues the dispute, all spoken in Thai.  I am amazed at how much Thai I can speak. She eventually turns, telling me she knows who I am (after all I am a regular).  Her turning statement was how she would like to learn English and that her sister lives in Denmark.  She likes farang men and asks my name and where I live.  This is both funny and very uncomfortable.  We are friendly and that is good, but I am no longer in control, not knowing where this will go.  I am very  happy to get off the bus, while encouraging her all the way as a good and strong woman, who is smart.  

Control doesn't work, but be ever smart and friendly.  They work.  

 ; diversity and strength do.  

Hear the Cry of the Earth

Guess who?

I went to a friend's farm in Buriram last week, for a couple of quiet days, to begin Lent.  I also went with a practical task for my short time there, as I am to present on a key theme of Pope Francis' Laudato Si - "Hear the cry of the earth". I thought how can I hear that cry, when I live at the centre of My big, busy, crowded and noisy Bangkok?  So off I went on the bus, heading upcountry.  Well, what did I hear there? 

Firstly, I was struck by and enjoyed the silence.  This told me that I had to become still to hear the earth's cry.  Coming from the big city and its busyness of life, it takes time to become still and quiet so as to listen.  As I downed the pace of my life, I quickly became aware that I was not setting the conversation.  I surely knew that I had to stop and listen.  

I saw the animals on the farm.  The dogs, the ducks, the geese, the chickens - they all looked so cute.  On the surface, they got on with their business, living in harmony.  In fact, the very opposite was part of the reality as the dogs would slyly attack and kill the other, defenceless animals.  In order to keep the dogs in line and protect the other animals, they were given their own, comfortable house. 

Truth is, while life on the farm is peaceful, it can also be cruel and harsh.  Animals are territorial and fall prey to each other, with the stronger ones in the chain dealing harshly with their weaker brothers and sisters.  So there is ever an undercurrent/  

While all looks still and calm on the farm, the climate is harsh and there is a lot of work to be done.  No matter how hot it may be, there is always a list of chores waiting for one's attention.  When something goes wrong, you don't call in the workmen.  Rather you fix it yourself.  So the realities make you more aware of your dependency and interdependency, on both nature and humanity.  You know your farm and you work with it.  You know the earth and you work with it.  And you know you cannot do it alone. 

Life may seem simpler in the country, but it is not.  It involves hard work, and, to be successful, you work with the earth, not against it.  That is a skill.  You get your hands dirty.  Anything can go wrong at any moment.  The harshness of the climate and the land remind you who is in control.  Not you!

I could see how the land is there not to be tamed or conquered.  It can't be as nature is too strong.  Rather, the land is to be connected with and related with, like dealing with another person.  Show it respect and give it the dignity it deserves.    

In the big city, we make things happen, using money; we take too much for granted.  In the country, you achieve, using your own resources and knowing and respecting nature.   In the big city, there are more barriers or defence mechanisms.  In the country, it is you and the earth, together with those around you.  In the end, that is it.    

Fiery Arrow

St Brigid of Kildare (451-525CE)

1st February is the feast of St Brigid.  She was a native of Ireland, being the daughter of a Celtic chieftain.  She was named after a Celtic goddess, whose name means "fiery arrow".  I thought - Wow! Her name reflects how I picture her - a strong willed woman.  Her life story speaks of a holy woman, a strong woman, with a real zeal for the faith and helping others in need.  In doing so, she faced all sorts of opposition, even from her father, for she did not just comfortably follow the social norms of her day in reaching out to the poor and suffering.  So it would seem she was and had to be a fiery arrow.  Don't we as well, in this harsh world?  

Like St Patrick, she was a missionary, building a new church in her homeland.  Together, they are the patrons of Ireland.  Here, we see the bond of mission, bringing together two great characters in history.  It is a small world.  .  

Mission?  What is it really?  It is not rocket science.  It is simply whatever good we do in following the ways of Jesus, to build up the Kingdom of God here and now.  Even that simple explanation sounds too academic or complex.  Put it another way.  All, we do and are, is coloured by our basic life orientation to following Jesus and his Good News.  We do so out of love and passion, not compulsion or compliance.   

And so... 

We may not deal very well with opposition or difficult people, but we keep at our tasks, ever believing in what we do for the other.  

We may take conflict and life's hurts far too seriously, but we never lose our sense of perspective and joy in life. 

We may be challenged by the demands of every day commitments, but we remain true to who we are and our responsibilities.  

A fiery arrow is not stopped by the elements.  It keeps reaching for the stars.  

It takes love, not money

Chipping in to get ready for the big wedding

I just had a great weekend up north, in Mae Hong Son, a most beautiful part of Thailand, by the border with Myanmar.  I went there for the wedding of a good friend, a Karenni guy.  

On arriving there,  my friend, the groom, took me to his place to see the preparations happening for the wedding, the next day.  I was just amazed to see these young guys busily cutting up a pig for tomorrow's feast.  Then I looked across the yard to see a whole group of women cooking the dissected pigs in huge pans, over gas flames.    

The wedding, the next day, was just as amazing, or simply put, it was a breath of resh air for a Catholic priest so often imprisoned by "Wedding World", with all its over the top demands, costs and expectations.  All ever too much!  For a pleasant change, this was a "do it yourself" wedding.  I just loved it.  

There was a lot of fuss and preparation,  It was a grand celebration, but it was created by the couple, with their people, helping all the way.  Balloons decorated the church.  The bride and groom, elegantly but simply dressed, welcomed all the guests.  There was no long line of bridesmaids and groomsmen, doing nothing other than imbuing the event with fashion and beauty.  The church was a small, simple, village church, where the local community gathered.  Today, the people sung gustily and said all the prayers with firm conviction.  The church celebration was engulfed in a family atmosphere.  It set the scene for a relaxed, at home reception, enjoying home cooked pork.  Just wonderful!     

It was all about using the limited resources available to the people, to create a celebration of love.  It hit me - a strong, loving community makes a family.   

 

We are the clergy

I have just received a reminder from the local church here - 

"We are the clergy.  We are above the laity." 

I think: "Really? When did we last read Pope Francis on the scourge of clericalism in the church?" 

Then, I harken bak to last Friday, the 12th January, which was the feast day of Blessed Nicholas, a Thai priest, who has been named a martyr in the universal church.  For me, the landmark was that it was 80 years since he died a martyr in a Bangkok prison.  

80 years ago saw a different world and a different Thailand, caught up in the utter chaos of the Second World War.  At that time, the Catholic Church in Thailand knew persecution, for it was wrongly perceived as an agent of the then enemy, the French, a European, colonizing power.  

So Fr Nicholas Bunkerd  was hauled off to prison in January, 1941, having been wrongfully convicted, along with many other Catholics.  There he lasted three years, living under tough conditions, while remaining true to being a priest, through prayer and exercising ministry in teaching and charity. Having been infected with TB and being weakened by excessive blood transfusions, he died a martyr on 12th January, 1944.  

For me, his life message is two-fold. 

1)  Always be true o yourself and your calling.

2)  In the context of our Christian calling, rise up to meet the challenges of life.

Having suffered so much in prison, having ever remained the true priest and kind man, I do not believe that Blessed Nicholas would, in anyway, hold that the clergy were above the laity.  I see it in his fresh approach to life and its presenting tribulations; I see it in his good nature and ever pressing ahead in fulfilling his mission.  I never met the guy, but I look at his face and I see a kind and good hearted man, with a sense of humour.   

All I can say is that the essential and good message for life is too often lost in life's messiness and intrigues.  We too often and unnecessarily do ourselves harm.  Blessed Nicholas, pray for us.