MY WEARY WAYS.

"Why do we always get a tired priest?" asked a small child after I'd just completed my third Mass on a Sunday morning. Now this happened years ago, when I was much more sprightly than I am today.

In the Caribbean we have a popular chorus that goes like this, "I never get weary yet. I never get weary yet. I never get weary praising the Lord. I never get weary yet." Why did the repetition of these words sound like two cymbals clashing within my head? Only fatigue and a sense of futility prevented me from rising and screaming, "It's not true! It's not true! "

Matters are not made easier by the admonition of St. Paul, "Let us not grow weary in well-doing," (Gal 6. 9). Is there something shameful in becoming tired in doing the Lord's work?

I savour the memory of a young lad asking me if I ever did not feel like saying Mass on Sunday. Now I would not presume to speak for other priests, but for me, as I told the little fellow, when my alarm clock rang early on a Sunday morning, at an hour when the birds would not have ventured to squawk or chirp, at such an hour my body protested that it wanted to stay snugly in bed, comfortable in the thick darkness.

With a smile he replied, "Just like me." We did a 'high five!' He was one of my most reliable altar servers. Like soul-brothers we could boast that we did not let our feelings get the better of us. With more or less joyful, more or less willing hearts we did what God expected of us.

I'm inspired by these words from the Letter to the Hebrews, (12. 12) "For the sake of the joy that lay ahead of Him, Jesus endured the cross." In the Garden of Gethsemane Jesus yearned, pleaded, to be spared the cup of suffering, but with courageous resolve, accepted the will of His Heavenly Father. In comparison, my weariness, very real to me, very heavy for me, is as nothing.

With ease I identify with Jesus sleeping in the boat while his disciples struggled against the wind and the waves. He rose, perhaps with a stretch and a yawn, when he was awakened to do something. It eases my conscience that Jesus sometimes took His disciples aside from the crowd so that they could rest a while.

So there's no need for me to aspire to being super human, toughened against feeling the burden of living. No need for me to feel I've let down a youngster by feeling worn out by the time I've completed my third Mass. Jesus made no claim to being above and beyond such human weakness. In my following Him there's no call for me to resent my frail humanity.

It is in and through it I am to choose to do the will of God and in this find joy...as did the bed- loving boy in serving Mass.

Peter O.P.

Next week Fr. Isidore will Meet God in the Australian Outback.

IN SLAMMING DOWN THE PHONE!

There's power in slamming down the phone...power to cut off in mid-sentence the one who is speaking to you...power to have the last word in any conversation...denying the other all opportunity to make a reply. "I have nothing more to say to you. I'm not interested in anything you might say to me." This certainly brings an abrupt and violent end to a conversation! It's a sign one of us has been pushed too far and is not prepared to take any more verbal attacks or insults. Usually this results from a flaming row, when vicious things are said, which often we don't really mean.

It's quite a shock when someone slams down the phone on us. We may well wonder what has hit us, and, self-righteously, try to justify what we said. Or we may feel full of remorse and wish we'd been more temperate in our language, more understanding and patient. And if we've slammed down the phone we will have dire thoughts about the person at the other end of the line being impossible and unreasonable.

Certainly it's a painful situation. Both parties feel aggrieved and resentful. They feel misunderstood and hurt. Slamming down the phone has broken off communication. If the friendship means anything to us we will feel a great sense of loss. If we're responsible for the breakdown we will feel guilty for causing so much pain. And if we're the one who has been hurt and pushed so far as to cut the phone call short we may regret that we didn't handle the situation better. Perhaps we could have defused the tension. If we're honest, we'll probably have to admit that we added fuel to the fire by hitting back with hurtful words. Rarely is one person entirely guilty or innocent in such situations.

No matter who's responsible, we all want to heal the wounds we've inflicted or suffered. Deep down we hate the tension of conflict and want to be at peace with someone who is dear to us. That can only be done by one of us picking up the phone and re-establishing contact.

I've found it's best not to stand on my pride. It doesn't really matter whether or not I was responsible for the breakdown in communication. It's worth my while to make the first move at bridge-building. I should pick up the phone, and if I was at fault, should apologise. And if I have been wronged and hurt then I should be generous in forgiving. Mercy given and received is the only way of restoring damaged relationships. Hopefully we will realise that the longer we cling onto our grievances the more they are likely to grow and we will become more entrenched in our bitterness. Everyone benefits if we waste no time in our efforts at peacemaking.

With phone-slamming on my mind I wondered how God reacts when we offend Him. Sometimes, when we get exasperated with God we cut him off -especially if we blame him for all the suffering in the world, and perhaps in our own lives. In contrast, God never loses patience with us and breaks off communications. He is like the Father in the parable of the Prodigal Son, who watches and waits for his wayward son to return. Or He makes the first move to seek out the lost sheep. Because His love is everlasting He is always merciful. His love for us is steadfast, not brittle and fickle. While God has the resilience to take the knocks we lose our cool and slam down the phone.

In his 2nd Letter to the Corinthians (ch. 5) Paul tell us that in Christ we become a new creation. In Christ God has reconciled the world to Himself, not counting our sins against us, and giving us the ministry of reconciliation. Though He was the injured innocent party, God in Christ made the first move in healing our relationship with Him, damaged by our sins. And He has given us the ministry of reconciliation. Like Christ, we are to be peacemakers, whether or not we are innocent or guilty.

From reflecting on fraught telephone conversations I have learnt that God handles such situations in a much more positive way than we do. I must learn to be like Him and not slam down the phone and break off communications. And if they have broken down, I must again be like God in making the first move in repairing the damage. Like God, I must always be eager to accept an apology. But unlike God, I sometimes have to make peace by taking up the phone and saying, "Sorry."

And if I get so exasperated with God that I stop communicating with Him I can only meet him again in loving friendship if I stop sulking and start listening and talking to Him. And the sooner the better, since my petulance is only harming me, not Him.

Incidentally, I do get annoyed when someone dials the wrong number and puts down the phone without apologising. To me, that is downright bad manners!

Isidore O.P.

Next week Fr. Peter will reflect on Meeting God through "My Weary Ways."

ABRAHAM, MY MENTOR.

Embarking on a plane, heading for a country unknown to me, where I did not speak the language, with no idea where I was meant to go once I had landed. All I had was the assurance that I would be met...by a complete stranger. Walking in the dark?

Never before had I felt so uncertain, so insecure. Never before had I been so dependent on the unknown being so reliable, so trust-worthy. My trust in him had to be absolute. I had no control over my immediate future; nor of myself; nor of anyone else. Even now, after more than thirty years, I shudder at the memory. Of course, as I should have expected, all turned out well.

This was my 'Abraham Experience.' He was the man whom God called to leave a world familiar to him and to travel to a land -quite literally -God alone knew where! This land God promised to give him. He had no idea where it would be, how he would get there, nor would he be certain that he had arrived at the place that he was to make his home. Abraham, a man uncertain, insecure, nakedly exposed to the future. Being supremely a man of faith, Abraham put his trust in the unseen God and set forth. What faith! None of us has done better than that...even with all the so-called progress in the several thousand years since the time of Abraham. Again I exclaim, 'What faith, what blind trust in God!'

Even now I'm planning to come to England for a vacation. This very afternoon, before I began to type this posting, I discovered that I had lost my passport. What huge anxiety, as I feverishly searched and searched ...insecure at having lost control...fearful of the consequences if I did not find my passport, not knowing what tomorrow would bring. How would I cope? Would I be able to cope?

Uncertainty about the future is the pattern of our lives. Those who recently were financially rock-solid are now as wobbly as jellies. Youngsters, graduating from school or university face this uncertainty. The scaffolding of a structured life is abruptly pulled away from them. The same could be said of those reaching the age and stage of retirement.

Indeed, we all have our 'Abraham Moments' of being plunged into the unknown...seemingly drowning! Yes, we have our fears. We don't care to admit them to ourselves, still less to share them with others. How to re-define the future when the stability of the present has been snatched away? How to brave it out with trite mantras, such as 'Life must go on; a new start must be made?'

Something like Abraham's faith in God is called for..from all of us...even those blessed with fairly settled and predictable lives. We are to trust that God will be there, loving us in that future that is known to God but unknown to us. I have to convince myself that there is no guarantee that I shall live happily ever after. The fool's dream, the cheerful optimism of the family film. Having Abraham as my Father in the Faith, my role model is far from easy.

With these thoughts in mind I shudder at the over-arching trust, the magnificent confidence, in the words of the dying Jesus,

FATHER, INTO YOUR HANDS I COMMIT MY SPIRIT.'

The Father asks each of us to make the same act of complete trust in him as we approach death. Then it's no longer possible for us to hold on to any of the props upon which we've relied throughout our lives. Death demands that we must place all our trust in God's loving, caring and merciful hands.

P.S. Thank God, I've found my passport!

Peter Clarke O.P.

Next week Isidore will reflect on 'Slamming down the phone.'

THROUGH CONFESSION

I can remember discussing the Sacrament of Confession or Reconciliation with a group of teenagers. They were surprised to learn that we priests needed to go to confession. That discovery came as a relief to them. Not that they were glad we were sinners, but because they thought this should make us more able to understand what it was like for them to have to confess their sins.

I've told them that we priests felt the same sense of shame, guilt and embarrassment as they did when we have to admit to another person that we have done wrong. Hopefully we will show the penitent the same understanding and compassion we would yearn to receive when we have to confess our sins.

Through the Sacrament of Reconciliation I have met God in a very special way, both in hearing confessions and in making my own. It is in this sacrament that we experience the wonderful power of God's healing mercy. Though we may approach this sacrament with fear and embarrassment, we should leave it with joy in our hearts, as we realize that a great burden of guilt has been removed from our shoulders. God has put our sins behind him and us. He picks us up when we have fallen, so that with his grace we can make a fresh start.

The most wonderful words we can hear are those spoken by the priest in the name and power of Christ, "May the Lord give you pardon and peace. I absolve you from your sins..." "Pardon and peace," or better still, "peace through pardon." Peacemaking -that's what this sacrament is all about. God restoring peace between himself and us, when we've rebelled against him by sinning. God giving us peace of mind after we've been tormented by shame and guilt.

When I hear confessions I'm filled with a sense of wonder as I witness the grace of God at work. It's most humbling fro me, as a priest, to realize that the penitent, is, in fact, primarily confessing his sins to Almighty God, and only secondarily to me, Isidore Clarke, his minister. And it's God who does the forgiving not me.

I am the witness to an amazing grace -the very fact that, after perhaps many years' absence, God has prompted someone to come and seek forgiveness. Then I'm struck by the humble honesty with which people confess their sins. Even though they may fumble in expressing themselves there's no attempt at deception. Rather than being shocked when people confess a very serious sin, we priests rejoice at their repentance and our being able to help them find forgiveness from God.

I've found that the penitent holds up a mirror to my own life whenever I hear a confession. As I look at myself I have to ask myself whether I'm guilty of the same faults. God uses the repentant sinner to inspire me to question my own life and seek forgiveness. Any advice I may give I must apply to myself. And when I do advise, it is God prompting me to say just the right thing, taking me by surprise.

We priests should always presume that everyone who comes to confession knows he's done wrong and is sorry for his sins. Otherwise he wouldn't bother to come. What he seeks is forgiveness. Any advice we give should build him up, not humiliate and crush him with angry recriminations. This Sacrament of Reconciliation is meant to make forgiveness, not sinning, easy for those genuinely repentant sinners, who really want to make a fresh start. When Jesus forgave repentant sinners He combined firmness in saying, "sin no more" with the compassionate words, "your sins are forgiven." He is the model for every priest hearing confessions.

Though it's a great privilege for a priest to be the minister of God's mercy it can also be very exhausting and tedious. Being human, we may sometimes become impatient or irritable. When we are, we need the penitent's understanding and forgiveness, just as much as he needs ours.

After being a penitent for about seventy years and a priest for over fifty I have learnt that this peacemaking sacrament is the most wonderful way of meeting God, even though we may find it painful to confess our sins. Through this sacrament we most directly experience the saving power of our crucified and risen Lord. Christ enables us to make our peace with God; our baptismal commitment to Him is renewed, as we die to sin and rise once again to new life.

The Gospels tell us God rejoices with the angels as he welcomes back the repentant sinner. When the Prodigal Son returned home his Father rejoiced with the words, "My son was dead and is now alive again; he was lost and is now found." No wonder they celebrated with a banquet!

Isidore O.P.

Next week Fr Peter will reflect on Meeting God through "Abraham, My Mentor"

THROUGH A CHILD'S BEWILDERMENT

The bridal party had just arrived at the church. So I spent the time chatting to a group of small children, beautiful in their wedding attire. Such youngsters are delightful in the way they pass remarks and ask questions without inhibitions. In this they reveal the world they inhabit -one of false impressions and weird misunderstandings.

As I was leaving home for the wedding I had brushed my hand against a rough wall. While the flow of blood had been staunched, my hand looked something of a mess. As all the youngsters expressed their concern one of them surprised me by asking,

"Do priests have blood?"

I mused whether they thought that I, as a priest, was some kind of alien from outer space -such as the beings they see in the sci-fi films on television -non-humans with all sorts of gadgetry sprouting from their heads? Even bloodless.

I was reminded of the time my mother came to stay to stay with me in Barbados, long ago in the 1960s. Curious children came to the presbytery to find out what a priest's mother looked like. It never occurred to them that a priest should have a family background. For them the priest came from beyond and stepped out of a plane, just like an alien descending from a space-craft. These days West Indian children see priests coming from their own families. Now, no problem for them to see priests as ordinary folk, just like them!

And I had breezily assumed that everyone, including children, accepted me as a normal human being! I could understand that my priesthood set me apart from other people and that my sacramental ministry gave me powers not enjoyed by others. But for me it was bizarre that some would assume that I did not belong to the human race.

Of course I'm reading into these episodes more than was ever intended. But this does lead me to reflect on the much bigger issue that people have always had great difficulty in identifying Jesus as being truly, fully God and truly, fully human. No problem in recognising His humanity in the light of His Nazareth family background of Joseph and Mary, His eating meals, wearily sleeping in a fishing boat and finally dying on the cross.

But what to make of his deeds of power -healing the sick, raising the dead, calming storms, feeding multitudes with just a few loaves and fishes? There were those who believed that Jesus must have worked these wonders under the influence of Beelzebub, the Prince of Devils. Such critics could not accept that Jesus might be an exceptionally godly person, even God Himself.

My musing have taken me a long way from the child who wondered if priests have blood, and from those who had to find out if priests had a strange kind of mother. This has forced me to examine how people understand my priesthood. I ask myself what the promotion of local vocations to the priesthood means to young people.

My Way, GOD'S WAY lay through an inquisitive child who wondered if priests have blood, and those who speculated whether he had a strange mother. More importantly, I realise more clearly now how much is being asked of us when we confess that Jesus, Mary's child, is Lord and God.

Peter O.P.

Next week Fr. Isidore will reflect on Meeting God through Confession

BADGER WATCHING

A badger is a beautiful animal, rather like a tiny black and white bear. It's very shy and spends most of the day underground in a set in which several families may live. But in the evening the badger comes above ground to eat.

A friend and I were very keen to see a badger, and fortunately we lived near some woodland in which there were several sets. So, we decided to go badger watching. And realizing how shy they were we were very careful. While the badger has very poor sight it has very sharp hearing and a keen sense of smell. So, in the evening we approached the set from down wind and moved very quietly. On arrival we sat opposite the set and sat very still, not making a sound. We watched. We waited; we became stiff and cold. And after spending several hours of keeping all the accepted rules for badger-watching, we didn't see a single one!

But on another occasion, when it was bright daylight, my friend and I were walking through the woods. We chatted noisily. Twigs snapped under our feet. We broke all the rules for sighting badgers. Wrong time of the day; wrong environment. And we were too noisy. But then, suddenly, a badger broke out from the undergrowth, right under our eyes. Clearly no one had told the badger the human rules about badger watching. It was under no constraint to follow them.

This got me thinking about what badger watching had to tell me about meeting God. Certainly there are useful guidelines, which dispose us to become more aware of His presence. It helps if we make time to be still and quiet. Remember how one of the psalms says, "Be still and know that I am God." Jesus encourages us to seek the solitude of our rooms when we pray. He himself chose to pray in the peace and quiet of the mountain top, of the wilderness, of Gethsemane. If Jesus and His disciples needed this time and space to relax, unwind and pray, so do we.

Although these guidelines are important in helping us to become sensitive to God's presence, He Himself is not bound to follow them. Like the badger, darting out of the undergrowth in broad daylight, God can and does reveal Himself in most unexpected ways -and at the most unexpected times. He frequently takes us by surprise.

Jesus tells us that we meet Him in the needy, who are appealing to us for help, as well as in the love and care that people show us. The risen Lord is with us as we journey through life. This was part of the message of His appearing to His disciples on the road to Emmaus. He speaks to us in the Scripture. We meet Him in each of the sacraments. He is with us in the market-place and in our homes: He is with us when we are at work and when we relax. If only we had the sensitivity to recognize and welcome Him!

Badger watching has taught me that while guidelines are useful, neither the badger nor God is confined to our rules. It's not for us to determine how they should reveal themselves to us. The Badger has taught me to be open to God's surprises...Surely a new approach to reaching God...by badger watching

Isidore O.P.

Next week Fr. Peter will reflect on A Child's Bewilderment

COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS

I've been called upon to bless motorbikes and rocking horses, homes and kennels; competitors in swimming races, application letters for employment, family meals...also amusement arcades and swimming pools. You name it, I've blessed it.

Imagine my excitement when asked to bless the newly constructed pier that would receive cruise ships visiting Grenada. The idea was that I should be carried aloft in a 'cherry-picker.' From on high my amplified voice would come, as it were, from the clouds. And then I would sprinkle water on the docks and the people below.

What a challenge to compose a blessing that fitted the occasion; and what a temptation for me to get above myself, as I fantasized about myself being pictured on the front page of the local newspapers with such headlines as, "Cherry-picker priest pours down blessings from the clouds." I would have been proud to have shown this to my beloved mother and to have waved this in front of my studious brethren, applying themselves diligently to the latest liturgical instructions from Rome.

But for reasons best known to himself our Almighty Father did not allow any of this to happen. The government minister responsible for building the likes of piers and docks had a change of schedule that required the event to be deferred. By that time I had winged my way over to England for my vacation. The substitute for this high-flying priest was the much-revered bishop. Out of deference to his years and to his office he was invited to pronounce his blessing at ground level. I have absolutely no doubt that his prayers were just as effective as mine would have been from above and beyond.

As I reminisce about blessings that have caught my imagination I recall the custom on the Feast of the Holy Innocents. Whatever had been given for Christmas was brought to the church to be blessed, as well as the one who received the gift. In a country parish proud youngsters have not only come with the traditional toys, games and dolls, but also with puppies, piglets, newly-born lambs, kittens and recently hatched chicks...I almost forgot to mention the goats.

And then there were the blessings on the Feast of St. Joseph the Worker. All were invited to bring to the church whatever they used when they were doing their work. Some came along with their pens and exercise books, others with frying pans and saucepans, yet others with scissors. crochet needles or sewing machines. There were those with their lap-tops, machetes, fishing hooks, taxis or buses.

No things were excluded; no persons were excluded. In such a setting how could we omit refreshments, laughter and sacred song? Quite honestly I love this kind of 'popular religiosity' just as much as the solemn celebration of the liturgy. It touches lives and brings people together in the Lord.

I found such practices in Grenada when I arrived here over 50 years ago. Deep in my heart I see this is mywaygodsway for me to enter into a wonderful relationship with God, the giver of all good things...and to relate to God's people in the islands that have long been my home and life.

Peter O.P.

Next week we will combine to meet God through a Crab in the Choir