WHAT A REVELATION!

You need to pick a lot of wild blackberries to make up a pound in weight! Also you get  badly scratched.   But that didn’t bother us young lads.  We enjoyed roaming the fields.  And what’s more a market gardener paid us 1/2d a pound –for us a lot of money in those days! We also collected and sold him rosehips, which would be turned into syrup, issued to us kids to give us a boost of vitamin C.  We called this, ‘government juice.’

In addition to earning a bit of pocket money, we lads were also doing our bit for the war effort.  Apart from growing our own vegetables, our greatest enterprise was to pile into the back of a lorry.   We, with a number of other kids, would be driven a few miles to a market garden. As we jumped down to the ground we were directed to a number of fields or greenhouses.  These grew tomatoes.   Our task was to ‘eye and tie’ the plants.  The eying involved pinching out the suckers between the stem and leaves.  These were unproductive growth, which sapped the strength from the plant and produced no tomatoes.  By the end of the day our hands were covered with sap from these suckers -a thick, dark green, pungent grime –hard to remove.

Rain did stop our work. We were simply moved to the tomatoes in the large greenhouses.   There it was hot and humid –the ideal home for an unwanted guest.  While Peter was tying a plant to a stake he suddenly screamed and leapt back.  Why the commotion? What was wrong? Certainly we were regularly stung by nettles, but that’s nothing to shout or scream about. That went with the job. Soon we discovered what had alarmed Peter.  He had disturbed a beautiful resting snake, with a golden ‘V’ on the back of its head –a viper!  That’s the only poisonous snake in the UK.  Angrily it hissed, as it warned my brother to back off. Peter needed no second telling!  Fortunately an adult came and rescued him.

For us those were idyllic days when we enjoyed rural life and were too young to appreciate the horrors of war. And we were earning money! This we invested in our post office savings accounts. Since we were taught to be frugal these gradually mounted up until some dozen years later Peter and I headed for the Dominican noviciate.  Before leaving we cashed in our savings and bought a case each, to hold the clothes we would need.

These were no ordinary cases.  True, they were only made of cardboard. But, with expanding hinges and lock, they could be enlarged to almost double their original capacity.  They were known as, ‘Revelation Cases.’  And it was, indeed, a revelation how much they could hold.  Apart from a couple of tea chests for our books, our two cases were sufficient for all Peter and I needed to take, when we sailed off for our mission in the W. Indies.  That was in 1958.

Now, in 2013, I still have my old case.  Though a bit battered it’s still serviceable –like its ancient owner.

As I reflect on my old case it’s quite a revelation! I’m delighted that it resulted from picking blackberries, and tending tomato plants, more than sixty years earlier.  My case has become very much a part of my history, and I’m part of its history.

This helps me to realize that none of us can see how the small things we do can form part of a much bigger picture in God’s plan for us.  They are like the individual pieces of an enormous jigsaw puzzle.  Only when that’s completed will we see the whole picture.  Only then will we appreciate how each piece fits in with all the others.   And what a revelation that will be!  I’m looking forward to that.

Isidore O.P.  

The next posting will be 24th May.

 

WONDERFULLY MADE

One car after another, after the other - three brand new cars, highly polished, squeaky clean, brought to me to be blessed. They were truly works of art, wonderfully made. The proud owners were obviously delighted, and so were the passengers – excited young children.

In prayer and song we asked God to bless those who had used their creative skills to design these vehicles, as well as those who had manufactured and assembled their many parts. Everything was wonderfully made! We prayed that these cars would not suffer from mechanical failures, or be the victims of mindless, dangerous, users of the roads.

And then, most importantly, I turned to the owners, the drivers and asked each one of them to make a pledge that they would drive their cars carefully and responsibly so as not to be a hazard to themselves, their passengers and other users of the road.

I pointed out to them that what WAS WONDERFULLY MADE WAS MADE FOR A PURPOSE…to be useful in taking people to work and the children to school and to be sources of delight when travelling to see friends or going on an outing - just for the fun of it!

Sadly, I felt the need to remind them that what was delicately fine-tuned could also be lethally powerful – a source of exceeding joy could also be the cause of inconsolable regret. I advised them, "Don’t drive your car faster than your Guardian Angel can fly."

I’ve described these brand new cars as "Wonderfully Made" and "Made for a Purpose." In truth and in fact these are the titles of the two volumes of "A Syllabus for Family Life Education in Catholic Schools in Grenada." What a marvelous thing to give to young children, right from their earliest days, the idea that they themselves and everyone around them were ‘wonderfully made’ by a clever Creator God who is their loving Heavenly Father. They would do well to admire themselves, their ability to walk and to talk, and to thank and to praise God, perhaps in the words of Psalm 139,

For it was you who created my being,
knit me together in my mother's womb.
I thank you for the wonder of my being,
for the wonders of all your creation.

Beautiful cars were not made to remain idle, to be admired, in the sales’ room of a car dealer. They were made for a purpose…as we have already seen. You and I, all of us, were not made for idle, foolish, meaningless lives. Creator God made us for a purpose. For starters, we were made for love…to love and to be loved…to love God, other people, and even to love our own selves...and to be loved by God and by other people.

More important than anything else is the conviction, perhaps the discovery, that we are lovable and that we are cable of loving others…good to other people, good for other people. Not one of us is worthless, not one us is useless…God did not make us so. We must not think it so…about ourselves or anyone else.

As I ponder the very thought of being made for a purpose first of all these words of St. Paul crowd in upon me.

^{Though I command languages both human and angelic -- if I speak without love, I am no more than a gong booming or a cymbal clashing. 2 And though I have the power of prophecy, to penetrate all mysteries and knowledge, and though I have all the faith}

^{necessary to move mountains -- if I am without love, I am nothing. 3 Though I should give away to the poor all that I possess, and even give up my body to be burned -- if I am without love, it will do me no good whatever.(1 Cor. 13).}

^{The love I’m thinking of is not cozily comfortable. It is unendingly demanding…and yet rewarding, as in the song,}

^{If I can help somebody as I pass along, If I can cheer somebody with a word or song, If I can show somebody he is trav’ling wrong, Then my living shall not be in vain.}

^{Wonderfully made! Made for a purpose!}

^{How better can we thank our Creator than by following this exhortation of St. Paul. "Whatever you eat, then, or drink, and whatever else you do, do it all for the glory of God," (1 Cor. 10.31)?}




Peter Clarle, OP
Look out for the next Blog 10th May 2013

WHATEVER NEXT, OH LORD!

What was the most interesting time of your long life?  That was the question one of my young Dominican brethren recently asked me. Well, I could look back over 80 years and recall different periods in my life, which held a whole variety of experiences, some of them pleasant, others not so enjoyable.  As with most people, the interesting times punctuated long periods of boring monotony.

I could think back to my childhood and the time when my brothers and I were evacuated during World War II.   That period held experiences which would be alien to people growing up in peacetime.  Certainly there was the horror of war, the personal sadness of our family being scattered, with dad in the army, mother and our two youngest brothers in a 16^th century cottage with no electricity or water. Peter, David and I were in ‘digs’ in the beautiful town of Ludlow.  Many were our adventures as we scaled the castle walls, ventured on the U.S. army assault course and swam in the freezing river.  I still have vivid memories of our celebrating VE Day on the Whitcliffe, with some inebriated idiot letting off rockets parallel to the ground. It’s a wonder he didn’t hit somebody.

Then there was our pre-Vatican II Dominican training –so very different from that of the present generation.  There’s the great danger of us oldies boring the youngsters with repeated anecdotes about the good or bad old days. One of my contempories has the catch phrase, ‘stop me if I’ve said this before.’ Repeatedly we’ve tried, but always failed, as he lumbers inexorably forward like a determined rhinoceros!

My brief work in the W. Indies opened up a whole new world, with people of a culture very different from mine, and living in an exotic tropical island. I was unbelievably happy and fulfilled as a country parish priest up in the mountains.  This was brought to an abrupt end by serious illness, which forced me to return to England.

After a lengthy convalescence I worked in Spode Conference Centre.  Immediately after the Vatican Council that was an exciting place to be!  There we heard experts explaining the Conciliar Documents. There was a ferment, a buzz, a clash of ideas, and many an animated discussion.  Our special vocation was to experience the Church’s growing pains; our mission was to explain the Council’s insights and give the reassurance that development was a sign of a healthy life, not a betrayal of the past or a loss of identity.  That was a good time to be alive and active!  Perceptively, someone recently remarked that for those of us of that generation the Vatican Council was an experience, but for the modern generation it is history!

And perhaps that’s how they look upon old fogeys like me –as part of history.  But not a bit of it!   Certainly the aged body does creek and protest with attempted exertion, and loss of memory is made up with creative recounting.  But in our antiquity Peter and I have found a new lease of life, full of fascinating possibilities.  These have been provided by spin-offs from computer technology.   Though separated by the Atlantic, Skype has enabled us to bounce ideas off each other and work closer than ever before.  Together we’ve been able to produce a blog with regular postings, to make recordings in our respective rooms and have them broadcast worldwide through the internet.  There’s nothing special about us in all this.  The technology is easy to master and available to all.

But our interests don’t end there.   As we approach the end of our lives here on earth we look forward to eternal happiness with God.  That is beyond our wildest dreams; the best is yet to come. That’s why St. Paul tells us, “But, as it is written, ‘What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him,’ ( I Cor. 2. 9).  Instead of living in the past Paul urges us, “²Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth, ³for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.  ⁴When Christ who is your^* life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory,”  (Col.3. 2-4).

Incidentally, agility is said to be one of the qualities of the glorified, risen body.  I’m looking forward to that!  

That’s what’s next...PLEASE GOD!

Isidore O.P.

PURSUING OXYMORONS

What a jolly pastime – pursuing oxymorons - sounds rather like chasing goofy cattle – doesn’t it!?!  There’s something rather gratifying in being able to pin-point what is absurd and who is absurd. All the better if this is flavoured with a with a dash of mockery  and scoffery (a word of my own invention).

Oxymoron – the coupling of contradictions, such as  ‘awfully good’ and  ‘terribly nice.’   I ask myself, ‘More awful than good?’ and ‘More terrible than nice?’ Or vice versa?  Of course, such oxymorons will not stand up to close scrutiny. They’re really rather vapid, stating no more than that something or someone is exceedingly good or nice.
A very different matter is when the kernel of our Christian Faith is expressed by way of  an oxymoron. What are we to make of these two daringly outrageous oxymorons chanted triumphantly at the high-point of the Church’s liturgy – the Easter Vigil?

‘O truly necessary sin of Adam, destroyed completely by the Death of Christ!

O happy fault that earned so great, so glorious a Redeemer!’

              ‘Necessary sin!                     Happy fault!’  

Only one who is divinely inspired would allow for a sin to be necessary or a fault to be a source of joy.  And this is precisely what the Church is doing during Holy Week; what the Church believes has to be done.  And this is what Jesus has done in and through the Paschal Mystery of his death and resurrection. He has turned the occasion of man’s defection – the Fall – into the source of redeeming, merciful love gushing from the heart of our Crucified Lord.

The sentiments of that much-loved hymn, ‘the Old Rugged Cross,’ boggle the mind, add to the confusion:

‘In the old rugged Cross, stain'd with blood so divine a wondrous beauty I see’.. and ‘So I'll cherish the old rugged Cross.’ The Cross..A wondrous beauty! .The cherished cross!’

In truth and in fact, the cross to which Jesus was nailed was a hideous instrument of torture so cruel that after hours of agony the one impaled on it eventually died.

No beauty here, no power here, and surely no wisdom. St. Paul recognized that the Christian faith was seen by some to be a mass of contradictions and absurdities.

I Cor. 1.23 For Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom, 23* but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, 24 but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. 25 For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.

While some would say, ’God doesn’t make sense,’ Christians would reply, ‘God doesn’t make nonsense’; what God does is make mystery – its meaning being far too profound for us to be able to grasp.
 

On Palm Sunday, the beginning of Holy Week, we celebrate within a single liturgy the contradiction, the conflict, the oxymoron, bedded into the very fact that Jesus was the Messiah, the Christ, the Anointed One of God, long promised by God, much awaited by the People of God. Acclaimed as a triumphant hero, rejected as a shamed villain.

Firstly, in our Palm Sunday liturgy, we try to catch something of the spirit of his entry into Jerusalem. This was wonderful, exciting, thrilling! And rightly so. Jesus, for this once, was allowing himself to be openly acclaimed with the Messianic title of ‘the King who comes in the name of the Lord.’ In so doing he acknowledged that he was all that God intended him to be; all this crowd made Him out to be. Their hero! They had got it right!

And then, in sharp contrast, in the Passion Narrative of this same liturgy of Palm Sunday we hear that he was treated as a villain, a reject. he was mocked, scourged, vilified, crucified. This was in total contraction of all that the People of God had been led to expect was due to their Messiah.

Such is the supreme oxymoron – the contradiction – literally embodied in Jesus, as pre-determined by his Heavenly Father. … that the Son of God, made man, Jesus, should be both worthy of all praise…as the acclaimed Messiah …sent by God himself, and be adjudged deserving of the ultimate human punishment meted out to criminals, he, Suffering Servant God, the Suffering Servant of mankind …the Redeemer. .

 

To come terms with these extremes of gladness and of sadness is emotionally, spiritually exhausting…the spirituality of Palm Sunday, an oxymoron, that might well tear us asunder.               It must surely have done something like this to Mary, the Mother of Jesus!

 

 

Peter Clarke, O.P.

DIVINE TRASH

 

I was hoping for a piece of driftwood to adorn my church during the Lenten season. Placed at the foot of the altar this would have provided an austere beauty that would have reflected the mood of that most sacred season. We were to focus our spirituality on preparing ourselves for the celebration of the Paschal Mystery of the dying and rising of Jesus Christ, through which he has recaptured for us the sanctified life that has been destroyed, or at least damaged, by sin. Indeed, not one of us has the capacity to undo the spiritual damage our sins have inflicted upon us.

The arid beauty of this  lifeless branch of wood, bleached and hardened by the sun and the salt sea, would have reminded us worshipers of the frail beauty of our  bodies – mortal and yet Temples of the Holy Spirit. This same branch would also have reminded us of our erstwhile fullness of grace that has been distorted and blotched by our sinfulness. The broken limb of a luxuriant tree had reached a dead end!

I was so disappointed not to get my piece of driftwood. Instead, I was provided with a straggling,  good-for-nothing branch– dry, dead –fit for nothing but to be burned on the rubbish heap.   And yet it had some kind of message to give me. We are to see ourselves, anyone, everyone, stretched out before the altar like this branch - wretched in our mortality, wretched in the faded beauty that was once our grace-filled selves. There is absolutely nothing we of ourselves can do about this.

It spoke to me of the ordinariness of life.  Such dead branches are to be found anywhere and everywhere. They’re so common that there’s nothing special, nothing news-worthy, nothing ornamental or decorative about them. Such is life and such are we all!

It is at this point that I recognize and marvel at the crafty scheming of God. The withered branch that spoke to me about the trashiness of life has taken me by surprise and shamed me. This Lent, my negative expectations of this branch before the altar have been shattered. They have turned out to be unfounded.  I had dismissed it as worthless and useless, and now, without any help from me or anyone else, it has begun to sprout minute leaves that are growing and growing day after day. And they’re increasing in number.   It is all of God’s doing.

It's no big thing if I get it wrong about a dried-up branch and discard it as finished  beyond all possibility of being revived. But it verges on the outrageous, even the blasphemous, if I should ever think that any fellow human being could be so spiritually dead to God that not even He could do anything about it.   I must never give up on anyone…no matter how bad that person may be. This branch is telling me that if I give up on someone then I’m giving up on God Himself. He can remove the heart  of  stone and replace it with a heart of flesh.

This branch has given me hope … a vital component of our Christianity. Ours is a God so slow to anger, so ready to forgive.  He can bring people to the point at which they long to be at peace with him. A major theme of Lent is that whatever godliness in us that has been lost through our sins can be restored if only we will come repentant before the Lord in the Sacrament of Reconciliation

 

 

Peter Clarke  O.P.

 

 

FIRST IMPRESSIONS

 

He had a delightful, crazy streak, a gentle sense of humour.  So it came as no great surprise when our friend told Peter and me that his degree research meant he had to become a surrogate mother to a flock of ducklings!

This was to test a theory known as ‘animal imprinting.’  This claimed that certain animals -especially ducks and geese -were very impressionable. They would bond with the first thing that caught their eyes, after they broke out from their shells.  Hopefully that would be their mother.  But if not, they would form an inseparable attachment to the most unlikely of substitute mothers.  Ducklings could become the best of friends with a cat or large dog –a creature which normally would make a meal of them. They’ve been known to become deeply attached to an inanimate object, such as a cardboard box or a wellington boot. Incidentally, (I’ve here adapted a cartoon which I found on the internet. Many thanks to the unknown artist!)

So, our friend studiously monitored the duck eggs from the moment they were put in the incubator. His research demanded that he had to be the first thing they saw as they hatched.  He alone provided for their every need.  Would they bond with him?  To his delight, they waddled behind him, as he walked away.  Later, when he rode off on his bike, they took to the air and flew behind him in the traditional ‘V’ formation.  When he dismounted and lay on the grass they landed on top of his back!    They’d become inseparable!

Our friend had obviously made a lasting impression on the newly-hatched ducklings. If he provided them with a substitute mother, they gave him the evidence he needed for his university degree.  I wonder how he felt having such substitute children.

As I reflected on our friend’s crazy research I was reminded of the importance of first impressions –not just for ducklings, but for us people.

There are many, who from the start have been greatly blessed by being brought up in a loving family environment of devout, Christian parents.  Their faith has become imprinted upon them.  During their childhood they were introduced to God, and He has been with them throughout their lives. That’s how countless people first meet God. Thanks to His grace, they’ve stuck with Him, and He with them -despite their lapses.

Sadly, many more children do not grow up in a loving Christian atmosphere.  Many are born into a godless and sometimes unloving world.  With such an early imprint, we may well fear that they didn’t stand a chance of meeting God and of experiencing His love.  But God can overcome that disadvantage.  Unlike the ducklings, they do have free will and, with God’s help, can react against an unfavourable environment.   And God can and does reach out to them in so many different ways. Often that’s through us believers. The impression we make may give them the first insight into what it means to be a follower of Christ. Meeting us can become the first step to their meeting Him.  But do our lives inspire them to want to join us in following Christ?  Or do we put them off Jesus and His way of life, probably without our realizing it?  That’s an enormous responsibility.

I’m struck by the way Jesus created such a wonderful first impression on hard-headed fishermen, such as Peter and Andrew, the tempestuous Sons of Thunder  -James and John. Instinctively they left everything and followed Jesus, even to the point of giving their very lives for Him.  That first impression was ‘imprinting’ on the grand scale –far exceeding the bonding between our friend and the ducklings!

I’m sure that God wants us to meet Him by imprinting upon us an unshakeable trust in the wonder of His love and mercy, His total commitment to us.  He wants this first impression to remain with us throughout  the ups and downs of life.

Like our friend and the ducklings, you and I,  may be the first impression or imprint some people will have of what being a Christian is all about.  Will they be inspired to follow us to Jesus?

Isidore O.P.

 

"DEM BONES, DEM BONES..."

I do enjoy relaxing with a good detective story!  There’s the sense of mystery, trying to pick up the clues and work out who’s the culprit before that’s been revealed by the detective.  Since I’m  a Dominican I find stories set in  the Middle-Ages particularly fascinating. The historical background is usually so well researched; it gives me a feel for how people lived when the Dominican and Franciscan Orders were founded. was  also the period when they established large communities here in Leicester - the very place where I’m living.

So, imagine my joy and excitement when, last year, here in Leicester, I witnessed a real live piece of detection.  Archaeologists were working on a dig in a car park.  Their purpose was to find the body of the notorious King Richard III. He’d been killed at the Battle of Bosworth, a few miles from Leicester. Records showed that he’d been buried between the choir stalls of Leicester’s Medieval Franciscan Friary.

After locating the friary underneath this car-park the archaeologists dug some trenches.  To my delight they had an open day for the public to see how they were progressing.  These trenches revealed bits of the foundation walls of the friary and its church.  As I gazed down these trenches I allowed my imagination to run free, as I speculated about the Franciscans brethren who had lived there over five centuries ago.  Our Medieval Dominican priory was on the other side of the city. My brethren of yesteryear would have known this Franciscan community.

Fascinating though this background was, the  archaeologists were not so much interested in the friary. Their focus was on the mortal remains of the man who was supposed to have been buried there –no less a person than King Richard III, the last English monarch to have been killed on the battlefield.  His death provided a turning point in English history. Finding his remains would be a major discovery.

To everyone’s excitement, between the choir stalls of the friary, they found the bones of someone who had obviously been killed in battle.  Was he the missing king?

Now another set of experts stepped in; the bones were carbon dated; genealogists discovered a descendent of Richard’s sister. A sample of his DNA was used to see whether it matched that of the DNA of the bones found in the Franciscan friary.. If so, the argument would be clinched. The mortal remains of Richard III would have been discovered.

This was far more exciting than any fictional detective story! Eagerly, impatiently, we awaited the results of the scientific research.   Today, 4^th February 2013, it’s been officially announced that the remains of King Richard III have, indeed, been found!

But what has this wonderful find to tell me about meeting God?  Well, the discovery of the bones in the car park reminded me of a passage in the prophecy of Ezekiel.  His exiled people were despondent. They feared that their nation had been destroyed and that God had abandoned them. In a vision the prophet saw a valley full of dry bones, representing God’s people.  Then the Lord said to Ezekiel, “ ‘Mortal man, these bones are the whole house of Israel. They say, “Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.” Therefore prophesy, and say to them, Thus says the Lord God: I am going to open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people; and I will bring you back to the land of Israel. And you shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people. I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act, says the Lord,’ (Ezek. 37. 11-14).

The vivid imagery of this prophecy gave hope that God would do the seemingly impossible. He would revive an apparently dead people. This prophecy was taken up in a popular Negro Spiritual about, “Dem bones, Dem dry bones,’ which would hear the word of the Lord; they would walk around.

And as I think of the dry bones of the deceased Richard III I’m confident that our crucified and risen Lord can breathe new life not only into Richard’s bones, but into the mortal remains of all who have died.

To the non-believe there would have been something very final about the discovery of Richard’s dry bones. Clearly, his life had been brutally snuffed out; he had no future. Nor would anyone else, once they’d died. But those very bones reminded me of Ezekiel’s prophecy and the Spiritual they inspired.  God can, and does, do the seemingly impossible. He can raise us bodily from the dead to share in the glorious life of His risen Son.

That archaeological dig has given me a new approach to my faith in the resurrection. After death, I trust the Lord will raise my dry bones. Then I hope to enjoy the fullness of life with the risen Lord.  Surely, that’s the very best way of meeting God!

 

Isidore O.P.

The next posting will be on  22nd February.