REFLECTED GLORY

A moment of utter peace....a moment to take in the wonder-world of the Caribbean island of Grenada where I have served as a priest for many years. There was I one night, seated on the balcony of St. Martin's Retreat Centre, facing the avenue of tall palm trees. How majestic they were, against a backdrop of total darkness, gloriously bathed in the soft glow cast by a lamp fixed to one of the trees! Up and down the avenue these stately pillars receded into the blackness of the night. Sadly this avenue was destroyed by hurricane 'Ivan' in 2004.

I can't help thinking of that avenue of Royal Palms. Yet even more wondrous were the moths flitting into and out of the light. For a brief moment among the trees these iridescent creatures danced their ecstatic ballet, oblivious of their reflected glory. These silvery moths made me think of us Christians, beloved children of God. As the New Creation, we reflect the glory of our risen and glorious Lord, Jesus Christ.

For most of the time we Christians, like these moths, go about our unspectacular lives without drawing attention to ourselves. But then, like the moths approaching the source of their brightness, we Christians offer a glimpse of the radiance with which we have been clothed. Such are the times when people witness something of the beauty of Christ within us. It could also be how we see them ...for a brief moment as luminous mysteries.

The words of St. Paul come to mind,

"I live now, not with my own life, but with the life of Christ who lives in me,"

(Gal 4: 19). And,

"All of us with unveiled faces, like mirrors reflecting the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the image that we reflect in brighter and brighter glory: this is the working of the Lord, who is the Spirit,"

(2 Cor. 3. 18).

We are not very much aware of this about ourselves. Nor do we often credit this of other people. Our preoccupation is with the ordinariness of our lives, or with the dark side of our sinfulness. With faith, and with the moths, to remind me of this I recognise that this is far from being the total picture. There is about us a life that is hidden with Christ in God. Mostly hidden, and when it shows itself we are scarcely aware of it.

For me that moment with the palm trees and and the moths was one of startling grace. It comes back to me now, with all its excitement and breath-taking beauty as I prepare to celebrate the Kingship of Christ, gloriously reigning in heaven. We are touched by his glory. We re transformed by his glory. In our own small way we reflect the glory of Christ within us. We are meant to convey a glimmer to the people around us.

I really and truly believe those moths were meant to say something memorable and inspiring to me. And they had no idea that this was so!

It is St. Paul who once more expresses my thoughts,

"Since you have been raised up to be with Christ, you must look to the things that are above, where Christ is, sitting at God's right hand. Let your thoughts be on things above, not on the things that are on earth, because you have died, and now the life you have is hidden with Christ in God. But when Christ is revealed and He is in your life -you too, will be revealed with Him in glory,"

(Col. 3: 1-4).

I can only say that those moths have led me to think of myself as having a significance that I would never, never, have dared to claim for myself.

Peter O.P.

Next week Isidore will reflect on how he met God in a 'Friend or Foe?'

MEETING GOD IN A JAM

In a jam, in a mess, in a sticky situation! None of these to be recommended! But I'll tell you, it was the lady who made raspberry jam who brought so much sweetness into my life, and more than that -deep friendship. You see, I love homemade raspberry jam, and was fortunate in having a friend who delighted in making it. Strangely, she didn't like eating it. But how happy she was to grow the raspberries from which she made the jam -and then to give it to someone who would enjoy it.

After tasting her jam I was full of praise and gratitude. As a result she gave me a regular supply.

But much more important, her kind gift and my grateful response drew us closer as friends. What a difference between finding a friend in a jam and finding a friend in jam! That probably wouldn't have happened if she hadn't given me the jam, and I hadn't shown my appreciation of it.

That gift of jam and my response taught me something very important about gratitude and ingratitude. People deserve to be thanked for what they've done or for what they've given. Of course, wanting to be thanked should never be the motive for their generosity...but rather love, simply love. But no one likes being taken for granted. We all like our efforts to be appreciated. There used to be a notice in our kitchen, which read, "No one notices what I do till I stop doing it." How true that is, perhaps especially in the home! Ask yourself how often you have thanked the person who has cooked your meals, tidied the house or earned the wages. And if you've done all that for others, how often have you been thanked? I bet you would welcome some sign of appreciation for your efforts.

Ingratitude is churlish. It creates resentment and tends to drive us apart. On the other hand, when we say, "Thank you" and show our appreciation the one who gives and the one who receives instinctively warm to each other and draw closer to each other.

These reflections made me realise how much we take God for granted. We owe him our very existence, as well as the fertility of our planet and the mineral resources it contains. He's given us the ability to develop technical and artistic skills, and so much more. In addition to these natural gifts God has given us his Spirit through whom we share God's own divine life and happiness. The Son of God has become one of us and has given his very life to save us from the power of evil and to grant us the fullness of life. Love for us is his only motive, and that is his greatest gift.

How easily do we take for granted all that God has done for us, all that he has given us! We are eager enough to ask him for many things, but how often do we bother to thank him? Our ingratitude prevents our responding to God's generosity with love. That distances us from him. But if we do take the trouble to thank him our gratitude will draw us closer to each other in love. And if we tell him we appreciate his gifts he will be ever more generous in loving us.

It's so easy to say, "Thank you." And yet those words mean so much. The gift of the pot of jam has taught me the importance of gratitude in helping us to draw closer to God and each other.

A final thought. Apart from saying "Thank you" the best way to show our appreciation of a gift is to use it, not throw it away or forget it. If it's a pot of jam, eat and enjoy it. If it's a garment let the giver have the satisfaction of seeing you wear it. And let's use God's gifts to express our love for him and each other.

Isidore O.P.

Next week Fr Peter will muse upon Meeting God in Reflected Glory

THE SOUND OF MUSIC

In the film, "The Sound of Music" Julie Andrews was seen striding down the mountain slope trilling merrily about the hills being alive with the sound of music. I know someone who saw the film over thirty times. Do you think such 'honey-sweet' music would cause young and old as much pleasure these days as it did over forty years ago?

Only a few days ago I had been searching for something, a word, an incident, anything that would get me started in writing a blog for this column. Well, there was I in a minibus in the beautiful tropical island of Grenada, waiting for it to fill up so that we could get moving. My curious eye cast this way and that . Was my prayer being answered? There on the windscreen of of the bus was written,

'IF IT'S TOO LOUD, YOU'RE TOO OLD.'

Now I'm not one to take offence at this slogan as being insulting to us elderly. I ponder, 'Is this a defining truth that is meant for Peter, the blogger, here in the very environment where sound is often at its most strident?' Here some youngsters, but not all of them, might ask the driver to turn up the volume, and one of my age, but not all, might beg that it be turned down. Since this situation occurs so frequently I can't help wondering if there's some correspondence between the generation gap and the breaking of the sound barrier.

The good Lord has provided a comfort zone of volume and pitch for each of the creatures to which he has given the faculty of hearing. A herd of elephants is charmed at the melody of trumpeting to each other. A swarm of bats finds joy in their choir of shrill twittering. By nature we of the human family come somewhere between these extremes. Nowadays, modern technology allows us to amplify sound almost ad infinitum or at the turn of a knob to eliminate it completely.

It's been suggested that those who continuously bombard their ears with exceedingly loud music may eventually become 'hearing impaired.' If so, such partial deafness will have been self-inflicted. I've also read that on-going loud music jangles the nerves, causing people to be irritable. it wouldn't surprise me if it's true.

What an ironic contrast that while ageing people tend to become 'hard of hearing' and have to resort to hearing aids, young people may be on course to 'deafening' themselves. As for me, at the Sunday liturgy of all places, I'm deprived of serene piety by amplified guitars, key-boards and percussion instruments. Little does the choir, ecstatic in its music making, realise the orchestra is preventing their every prayerful sound, their every inspiring word, from being heard!

Still, I'm able to cope, though with suffering and most certainly not in silence.

I would like to give some 'sound' advice to those youths to whom it may apply -that they should be more considerate to elderly people like me, in public places and especially under the family roof, where those of different generations make up their homes and seek their peace together. And I'm truly concerned about what the young are doing to themselves by subjecting their ears to greater sound than they were ever meant to tolerate...possibly doing far more harm to themselves than they would ever have imagined.

In my concern for them I hope that even now they experience the beauty of silence...as we learn from the prophet Elijah, in the passage in which I find so much solace:-

"Then the Lord went by.

There came a mighty wind, so strong that it tore the mountains and shattered the rocks before the Lord.

But the Lord was not in the wind.

After the wind came an earthquake.

But the Lord was not in the earthquake.

After the earthquake came a fire.

But the Lord was not in the fire.

And after the fire

came the sound of a gentle breeze.

And when Elijah heard this, he covered his face with his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave.

Then a voice came to him..."

(1 Kings 19)

Surely that's: god'swaymyway!

Peter O.P.

Next week Isidore will meet God in a Pot of Jam

GLORIOUS UNCERTAINTIES

"The way I tell the difference between you and your brother is that one of you knows how to end his sermons...!"

With those remarks a young lady tried to make conversation with Peter, soon after we'd arrived in Grenada. But then she stopped and beat a hasty retreat as she realised she was digging a hole for herself by implying that that the other of us didn't know how to conclude his sermons. To this day, over fifty years later, neither of us knows to whom she was referring. Each of us is convinced it was his brother!

That's just one of many examples of the confusion we identical twins can cause. Then there was the occasion when I returned to Grenada after an absence of twenty five years. As we stood in the market place someone came up to us, took a hard look at me, and exclaimed, "What the hell is that!" "THAT" turned out to be me. I was also known as, "Peter again" and even, "Peter squared." Today, "Rounded" would be more accurate.

Then there was the time when Peter was examined twice for acceptance into the Dominican noviciate, and I nearly missed being interviewed. If we hadn't pointed out the mistake what would have happened if in one interview Peter had been accepted and the other rejected? And what would have happened to me? We're still wondering.

Sometimes we can use the confusion we twins create to our advantage. Such was the case when, as Dominican students, we played for the priory cricket team. Peter, who was right handed, would bowl off-breaks from one end, while I, who was left handed, would bowl leg-breaks from the other end. The poor batsmen were not only confused by the different directions in which the ball moved, but also by the similarity of the bowlers.

But there can be disadvantages in identical twins being confused. If, as happened for a short while in Grenada, we were working in the same parish I wouldn't recognise some of his friends, and he would sometimes fail to greet some of mine. Naturally they were hurt by our ignoring them.

And there's the constant danger of twins being lumped together and of each of us having to struggle to assert his individuality. Although we have so much in common, especially our Dominican vocation, we do sometimes disagree -hopefully constructively. That means we are able to work together on joint projects, such as this blog, and bounce ideas off each other. We've found the speed of emails enables us to offer instant suggestions and criticisms. We can, and have been, pretty ruthless with each other!

Being separated by the Atlantic for nearly fifty years has enabled each of us to develop his own separate identity. That has been good for us, even though we do miss each other, and it's great when every few years we are able to see each other for a short while. For us it's not true to say that twins are inseparable.

Being a twin, who is sometimes confused with his brother, made me grateful that God is able to tell us apart. Jesus has told us that he knows each of his sheep by name. Not one of them loses its identity or individuality in the vastness of the human flock. Hopefully, in different ways, each of us responds to his master's voice and follows him. So, in a special way, we identical twins reflect unity in diversity. We rejoice in what we have in common, as well as what distinguishes us.

But what is most important is that God welcomes us for what we are -identical twins, each of us being unique. I thank God I'm able to meet him in being myself, not Peter. And he must meet God in being himself, not a replica of me. That's the way God welcomes each of us. And God loves each of you as an individual, who is not confused with anyone else. You, too, must seek and find God in being yourselves, not a clone of anyone else -even the greatest of saints.

As you may have gathered from earlier postings Peter works in the West Indies, while I now work in England. Since we live thousands of miles apart there's a time difference of four hours. That means that although Peter was born three hours before me I reach each of my birthdays four hours before he does. For a little while I'm older than him. Sadly I haven't yet found a way of taking advantage of my short-term seniority.

This time difference also means that as I meet God in one way while I'm tucked up in bed, Peter meets him in another way while he's still up and about. You never know, one of us may develop this approach to meeting God. Watch this space!

Isidore O.P.

Next week Peter will meet God in the Sound of Music

IN BEING A PACHYDERM

Pachyderms -rhinos, elephants

...splendid thick-skinned animals!

With their tough hides these massive creatures are shielded against the intense heat of the equatorial sun, hardened against the sharp-edged undergrowth through which they trample, resistant to the onslaught of many a foe ...magnificent in the way they are so well equipped to face the rough and tumble of life.

HOWEVER, not one of us would want to be known as emotional pachyderms -thick skinned, lumbering, insensitive, inhuman hulks, unruffled by the trauma of our own lives and those of other people.

Imagine, then, how thrilled I was when some time ago The Grenada Media Workers Association invited me to take part in a panel discussion, with the delicious subject being,

"Developing A thick Skin While Retaining Our Sensitivity."

Becoming thick-skinned, capable of dampening down the stress of personal anguish and the impact of the tragedies of others. And yet, in striving for this, remain sensitive-responsive to the heart-breaks, insecurities, fears, and even shame of others.

Media Practitioners have to cover some awful events. For their emotional survival they need something of the thick skin of the elephant if they are not to be traumatised. The same professional detachment is required of those working in the casualty ward of a hospital, or even of us priests who have to be there, supportive of those in distress. All of us must become sufficiently self-possessed so as not to swamp others with our shock and sorrow at what we see before us. Therefore, we must develop a thick skin. This surely applies to all of us at some time or other in our lives.

A closer look at the pachyderms reveals that their skins are porous. Through their skins they perspire -they get rid of the heat within their bodies. They are cooled, through and through, as they wallow in the refreshing water-holes. So they are by no means insensitive, closed to the outside world. And, you know, a pachyderm's thick skin protects its soft heart. It wouldn't function if it had a heart of hard stone.

In a sense, we are thin-skinned -emotionally -and thank God for that! We are porous and so are open to absorbing the pain of others...something like a sponge. Somehow or other we must find, acquire, develop a fine-tuned, well-balanced emotional life -at one and the same time being like leathery pachyderms, while retaining the tender sensitivity that flows from our humanity ...people familiar with tragedy but not hardened by it.

I think of Jesus weeping at the tomb of Lazarus, shedding tears over his beloved Jerusalem. We can only guess at the extent he was emotionally drained as he ministered to the sick, the bereaved, those who had lost confidence in themselves because of their personal shame. And in Gethsemane didn't he combine great human sensitivity, as he sweated blood at the very thought of his approaching agony, together with a pachyderm-tough will as he accepted the cup of suffering from his Father?

Jesus and his followers -a herd of sensitive pachyderms

...with a difference...meeting God...mywaygodsway.

Peter O.P.

Next week Isidore will meet God in Glorious Uncertainties

THE QUESTIONING SPHINX

What moves first with four legs, then with two, then with three, then the rest is history?

So asked the questioning Sphinx. It's not by chance that I always have my dog-headed walking stick close by me -even when composing these blogs. I gaze at my beloved dog-head as I search for inspiration. Its vanity will only be satisfied when I have given it blog publicity. Bingo! The answer! Me and my stick! The answer to the Riddle of the Sphinx:

As babies we crawl on all fours.
As healthy adults we walk on two legs.
And when we become aged and frail we get around on two legs + a walking stick
Such are the stages in our lives.

Well, I've reached the stage of requiring a stick -hence the picture of the handle. As you can see, it's far from ordinary. In fact it's very splendid and I'm inordinately proud of it. It depicts a St. Bernard's dog, complete with brandy barrel, which unfortunately is empty. A friend, visiting the Pyrenees, brought me back this beautiful present.

I'm not the only one to admire my stick. In fact complete strangers in trains and restaurants look at it with wonder and start talking to me about it. From this introduction we sometimes get into conversation, especially on long train journeys. Young people offer their seats to this frail old man who needs a walking stick. I always accept, since it would be churlish to refuse such a thoughtful and caring gesture. If, out of pride, I were to reject their offer they might be reluctant to show someone else the same kindness. They might think, "Once bitten twice shy."

As I reflect on my dog-headed walking stick I thank God for moving my friend to give it to me. This not only enables me to get about safely, but also proves to be a wonderful ice-breaker. It sparks off a spontaneous friendly reaction in complete strangers. They obviously want to be friendly with me and welcome my warm response.

All this could be dismissed as being trivial and transient. I think that would be a mistake. In these passing encounters we meet God's children, and they meet us. That's mywaygodswaytheirway of establishing communication. More than this, we meet God in each other. And as we exchange pleasantries about my beautiful dog-headed walking stick both of us feel a warm glow, which enriches our day. We seem to want to reach out to each other, but are afraid of being intrusive and clumsy. My dog stick has provided a way forward.

Far from being humiliated by needing my walking stick to steady me, I rejoice that it has opened new and unexpected doors, not only for me but also for other people. Anything that breaks down the barriers, which isolate us, is a gift from God. That goes for my walking stick! Take another look at it. It deserves more than a passing glance.

Isidore OP.

Next week Pachyderms will help Peter to meet God.

Meeting God through a Possible Child

"I'm not a problem...I'm a possibility."

So sang a group of youngsters at the ceremony marking their graduation from primary to secondary school.

ME -NOT A PROBLEM; ME -A POSSIBILITY.

What a marvellous self-affirmation from these children! God bless those teachers who instilled this truth into these young boys and girls!

I think of my own childhood when the Parish Priest complained to my mother, "Why has God sent me such awful altar servers? He, poor man, was referring to my twin brother and me. Between us, at different times, we had ruined his precious sanctuary carpet. One by vomiting on it, the other, as thurifer, by burning a hole in it. I wonder if we were more problematic than other youngsters. Surprise, surprise, we both became priests!

Possibilities...not problems. After more than sixty years I vividly remember the time when my eldest brother proudly showed Dad a wooden aeroplane he had carved. He eagerly waited to be congratulated. To his heart-breaking dismay Dad threw it on the fire and then gently showed him how he could do a far better job. Even now, this same brother of mine is making exquisite model planes and boats. The complacent under-achieving model-maker carried within him the seed of so many creative possibilities.

For me, this goes t the very heart and soul of the Gospel -the heart and soul of the way Jesus related to people. He saw them as possibilities rather than problems, or, perhaps saw that their real problem was that they despaired of their possibilities.

Time and again Jesus reached out to the despised, the marginalised, to those at the bottom of the pile that is humanity. And there he affirmed them. He saw them as people capable of being transformed by his saving love; people of God -given dignity, people worthy of respect and acceptance ...from Jesus himself...and from the rest of us.

Many did not admire Jesus for "lowering" Himself like this ...not even his intimate friends, the disciples. While he was never standing on his dignity, they were blustering among themselves about who was the greatest. Jesus gently, but firmly, cut them down to size.

"Anyone who wants to be first must make himself last of all and servant of all. Then he took a child, set him in front of them, put his arms round him , and said to them, 'Anyone who welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me: and anyone who welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me,'" (Mk. 9).

Jesus would have us know that this greatness, that his greatness as the Son of Man among men, his greatness as our Lord and Saviour, lay in his giving himself to people, welcoming them, believing in them -even children. It's so wonderful, so beautiful that Jesus should be able and willing to fulfil their possibilities...our possibilities as only he, the Son of God, could do.

The way of Jesus, godsway, was surely one of extreme optimism -possibilities, not problems. If I am to make any significant difference this must be myway.

Peter O.P.

Next week Isidore will reflect on meeting God in the Questioning Sphinx