IT'S ONLY A BEE !

It's only a bee; it won't hurt you! With those reassuring words my delightful young niece invited me to stroke a bumble bee. Little did she realize that the furry, friendly-looking creature had a sting in its tail -at least some of them do. I still don't know how to distinguish them from the harmless ones. So I hastily declined her friendly invitation and persuaded her that it was not such a good idea to stroke bees, however harmless and cuddly they may seem to be.

Much later I learnt a similar lesson the painful way. That was when I was picking Victoria plums -which I knew would be delicious. Unfortunately I wasn't the only one to fancy them. Eagerly I picked a ripe, succulent plum. Unfortunately a wasp had got there before me and was tucking into 'my' plum. As I grasped the plum and the wasp I felt a sharp, burning pain. I'd been stung! Not surprisingly, I let out a loud scream.

After making a hasty, undignified retreat I dressed my wound. Then, undaunted, I returned to picking plums for my community. I wasn't going to be intimidated by a wasp, which was much smaller than me. But now I was much more cautious and wore a pair of protective rubber gloves. Before grasping each plum I inspected it carefully to ensure that a wasp had not got there before me. If I saw one I heeded the defensive warning of its black and yellow stripes: "If you touch me I will sting you! Keep your distance." That I certainly did.

As a result I was able to harvest the ripe plums the wasps didn't want, without my being stung -even though they buzzed round my head and occasionally walked over my face. Yes, there were many more than one of them. But by keeping a respectful distance, and allowing each other to enjoy the plums, both the wasps and I were satisfied, without our needing to harm each other.

This led me to reflect on the wonder of God's creation. Each creature has its own beauty. My little niece was so right to delight in the beauty of the furry bumble bee -but so wrong in thinking it would welcome being stroked. And the wasp also has its own special beauty. Like the bee, it has been endowed with a powerful sting with which to defend itself. I can't blame the wasp for protecting itself by stinging me.

I think it's safe to say most beasts don't waste their energy or expend their weaponry unnecessarily. If they're aggressive it's either to feed or protect themselves and their young. Usually they give a warning hiss, growl or rattle. Some are more fascinating. They may posture and bang their chests, display bright colours or puff themselves up to increase their size. They all expect us to get the message and back off!

I marvel at the way each beast has a special role and place in the balance of nature. As one kind preys on another that prevents one species becoming too dominant. Only man seems to disregard this delicate balance of nature. We over-fish the seas. We destroy the habitat of the insects we need to pollinate the plants that feed us. We are so short sighted!

But at last we are beginning to wake up! We are learning to respect our environment. Certainly that starts with self-interest. But then, hopefully we move beyond thinking only of preserving what is useful to us. We expand our horizons to marvel at the wonderful world which we inhabit with so many other creatures. And that word, "creature" reminds me that this is not only our world, but God's. He has given us the privilege and responsibility of caring for it and developing it.

As I wonder at the world in which I live I realize that each creature gives glory to God, simply by being its magnificent self. That goes for the smallest as much as the largest. And that includes the wasp that stung me! But we people are special in being the only ones on earth able to appreciate the wonder of God's creation. We can put into words and sing the praise which each creature gives to its maker.

So I meet God by marvelling at the whole of creation and at each creature. I meet Him by respecting the environment in which He has placed me and them. This should enable all of us, His creatures, to flourish. Out of respect we give each other the space each of us need. That, among other things, means I don't stroke bees or grasp wasps!

Isidore O.P.

In a fortnight Fr. Peter will reflect on Meeting God 'By Having the Will But Not The Way.'

HARD PILLOWS

I'd purchased a pillow at a bargain price. Not that I needed one, but I wanted to support some church fund-raiser. In the interests of charity I will not name the 'Cause' I was assisting. Blessed are they who know when to keep their mouths shut! Concerning this pillow I have much to say.

Never, in my many years, have I ever placed my weary head on a harder pillow. Never has my neck been stiffer than after my giving my bargain pillow a one-night's-try. Perhaps it was designed to be a 'penitential pillow' for sinners who deserved to wait many tortured hours for the day to break and for the sun to rise. Isn't heaven reputed to be a place for eternal rest? I would strongly recommend the management there to trade with a firm that offers a 'soft option' in head rests.

Taking all this into account what am I to think about a fellow who chose a stone for a pillow? This must have been the hardest pillow on earth. Either he must have been in sore straits in this god-forsaken place or, perhaps, he was a person of little imagination. Even I could have taught him a thing or two about improvisation. In my camping days I've used tufts of grass, towels and rolled up clothes as stand-ins for pillows. Come to think of it, I've even aspired to the greater sophistication of creating a support for my neck by placing my shoes toe to toe and then covering the ensemble with a towel. Recipe for a good night's sleep!

Anyway, this hard pillow did not prevent our friend from having a dream that many of us dreamers would envy. Read all about him in Genesis 28. He, Jacob by name, dreamed of a ladder, 'planted on the ground with its top reaching to heaven; and God's angels were going up and down on it.'

Surely a most pleasing dream when we think of the nightmares that haunt some of us from time to time. And what about this?

'And there was Yahweh, standing beside him and saying, 'I, Yahweh, am the God of Abraham your father, and the God of Isaac. The ground on which you are lying I shall give to you and your descendants.'

No wonder Jacob on awakening exclaimed,

'Truly, Yahweh is in this place and I did not know!' He was afraid and said, "How awe-inspiring this place is! This is nothing less than the abode of God, and this is the gate of heaven.'

And I had described this as a god-forsaken place, barren and unfriendly. Never again will I be so rash, so dismissive of any corner of this, my world. No! It's God's creation; His world . He is everywhere. There's no such place where God is not. This awareness must be the foundational truth of my spirituality. I means that wherever I am, there is God...no matter how dire may be the place in which I find myself; no matter how sinful may be the situation in which I have chosen to put myself. God is there, loving me, even if I have stopped loving Him- which God forbid!

He is there, accessible to me, whenever I want to get in touch with Him. He is there inspiring me, guiding me, shielding me, rescuing me - whether I am aware of this or not. God is to be found even, perhaps especially, in and through a hard rock.

I, personally, am delighted that with my name being Peter, which means 'rock,' I am to think of myself supporting others with the comfort I myself have received from the Lord who 'is my rock,my fortress, and deliverer, my God, my rock in whom I take refuge,' (Ps.18.2)

TAKEN BY SURPRISE

The soothing peacefulness of an English autumn; the beautiful Christ Church Meadows of Oxford. There was I with my camera and my beloved, but now abandoned, pipe. I strolled along without a care in the world. I had no thought of returning with anything memorable to report.

All the same I'm a somewhat adventurous photographer -eager for the unusual, something that would be a conversation-piece, something worth bragging about. The tame squirrels in the Meadows seemed to be promising. They would take food from our hands and would even jump upon us. If I could catch such a shot it wouldn't be a bad start. But I wanted to do better than that!

So I found an acorn and stuffed it into the bowl of my pipe, which I then placed on the ground in front of me. Having baited my pipe I waited eagerly with my camera. But not for long. A squirrel darted from behind me, grabbed my pipe and leaped up the nearest oak tree. Seated on a branch it then removed the acorn. It even had the courtesy to throw my pipe back to me!

What a unique set of hilarious pictures that would have made! But no. The squirrel had ambushed me. It had taken me off my guard. It had moved so quickly that the whole episode was over in a matter of seconds. And I was so transfixed with laughter that I took no pictures. ..a wonderful opportunity missed! Obviously if I'd had more sophisticated camera equipment and had been in better control of my emotions I would have got my pictures.

But then, if I'd had the situation under control I would have missed the wonder of the unexpected. By no stretch of the imagination could I have dreamt up what the squirrel would do. My thoughts were earth-bound and went no further than hoping that I would get a picture of the squirrel remaining on the ground while it held my pipe and removed the acorn. That would have delighted me. It never occurred to me that the little I had to offer would prompt the squirrel to dash onto the scene, leap upwards with my pipe into the tree, and then, after it had taken its snack, return my pipe. This squirrel had transformed an obvious non-event into an amazing incident.

My squirrel has given new meaning to the adage, "While man proposes, God disposes!"

In this case God was exposing me to a new, exciting, unforeseen, unplanned experience. Could it be that He might be suggesting that we take a lesson from my squirrel and leap off, upwards, in unforeseen directions? The squirrel certainly had not expected to find an acorn in my pipe, still less to carry it up an oak tree. And when I set out with my camera that wasn't what I had planned. But as the squirrel seized my acorn-filled pipe it has provided my friends and me with many a laugh, even over sixty years after the event. That has enriched our lives in a way I had not expected.

And I have found that to be true of the more serious twists and turns in my life. My mother would not have been born if her mother had not broken of her engagement to a non-cricket-loving fiance and married someone who did enjoy the game. And our parents had debated whether we lads would be safer risking the blitz of World War II or running the gauntlet of "U" boats if we were sent to relatives in S. Africa. If we had gone there Peter and I would probably not have met and joined the Dominicans. And if illness had not forced me to leave the W. Indies I would not have had my crazy encounter with the squirrel. Nor would I have worked in a conference centre where I was able to hear famous lecturers explaining what the Vatican Council was all about. That has proved an enduring asset when giving retreats, conferences and sermons.

These unforeseen twists and turns in my life have taken me where I had not expected to go. If I'd remained wedded to my own plans I would have ended up disappointed and frustrated. Instead, the unanticipated has opened up new horizons for me. And If I'm sensitive I will realize God has always been with me, leading me into the unknown. That's exciting, and, at times, frightening. But in that unknown I will enter the wondrous mystery of God Himself.

I like to think that just as the squirrel got an unexpected bonus in finding an acorn in my pipe, so it has provided me with a humorous incident, which has thrown new light on the mysterious workings of divine providence. I can't make up my mind which of us was the craziest -the squirrel or me. I'm sure you have already decided!

Isidore O.P.

In a fortnight Peter will reflect on Meeting God by 'Getting Real'

IMPOSSIBLE DREAMS

It was getting to 'Wind-down' time in the evening. I was quietly relaxing before going to bed. My cell-phone rang. Surprise! Surprise! A sprightly young voice burst forth upon me like a tidal wave with, "Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations! You've won fifteen millions dollars in the National Lottery. Congratulations! Congratulations! Do you want it in cash or to be paid into your bank account?"

I had to halt this girl's avalanche of words. "Cool it! Cool it! Slow down!" I interjected. She was getting my poor head confused with her rapid-fire enthusiasm. "Tell me your name," I asked. "Penny!" she replied. "For heaven's sake!" I thought. "A girl call, 'Penny' was telling me I had won millions, no, billions, of pennies in the National Lottery."

I then calmly suggested, "Penny, tell me slowly what's all this is about -my winning a fortune in the National Lottery. And then give me a phone number so that I can reach you tomorrow." When I'd written all this down, I bid her, "Good night," and then composed myself for going to bed.

What a night I had! I threw caution to the wind! I let my imagination run wild. Not for me the sour caution of only believing in my good fortune once I'd seen the mountain of cash with my own eyes or when I was certain it had been safely lodged in my bank account. I pictured myself making it possible to pay off substantial debts on church buildings, or establishing bursaries for needy students, or assisting worthwhile charities.

With all this money flowing in my direction I expected at least to be allowed to make a celebratory cruise around the world. I put it this way because for over fifty years I have been a Dominican living under the vow of poverty. I'd been required to will to the Dominican Order any cash that came my way -earned, gifted, inherited or won by gambling. When I took my vows and when the Order accepted them neither side anticipated we'd be dealing with more than peanuts. I was not expected to be a financial asset to anybody.

I had mused on whether I would become bloated with pride at having become the Great Benefactor of the Order, the one who had plucked fifteen million dollars out of the air by winning the National Lottery. Would I be just the same person; would life go on just as usual?

Come the morning, I was brought back to the real world. No evidence could be found of my having made such a win in any lottery. The cheerful herald of my good fortune could not be traced through the cell phone. If her intention had been to rip me off through my bank account she must have rightly concluded I was not worth the trouble.

To tell the truth, the pickings and plucking in my life have come through hard work..by others and by me. By the mercy of God and the industry and generosity of others I've never known extreme need. For that matter, I've never been in a position to fritter away a mountain of riches. After deep consideration I believe I shall be most contented and fulfilled if I am able to make my own this prayer in the Book of Proverbs,

"Two things I beg of you, do not grudge me them before I die: keep falsehood and lies far from me, give me neither poverty nor riches, grant me only my share of food, for fear that, surrounded by plenty, I should fall away and say, 'Yahweh -who is Yahweh? or else, in destitution, take to stealing and profane the name of my God," (Prov. 30. 7).

Quite honestly, I don't think God wants me to win fifteen million dollars. I've never had much luck with raffles and bingos - nor with lotteries. It's not God's way of blessing me, nor my way for serving Him. But I'll tell you, God has given me His very self. What more than that could I want? And if I owned the whole world and did not have God in my life I'd be as poor as a church mouse. Come to think of it, never in my life have I bought a lottery ticket!

Peter Clarke O.P.

In a fortnight Isidore will reflect on meeting God in being "Taken by Surprise"

THROUGH MAPS

Ever since we were energetic teenagers my brother , Peter, and I have relished the idea of breaking free of the city and getting into the countryside. First we would have to choose an interesting place to visit. Then began the fun of planning our cycle route. For us travelling was as important as arriving. So out would come the map that would provide us with the crucial information we needed to make our journey. How we enjoyed wrestling with the decisions necessary in planning these outings!

There was the memorable occasion when we decided to cycle from Oxford to the south coast of England-about 100 miles. We'd almost reached the end of our journey when the weather turned foul, with driving rain and gusty winds. It was getting dark, and we valiant knights of the road, mounted on our bikes, were soaking wet, tired and miserable! And then, out of the mist and rain there loomed the warning sign, 'DANGER! ROAD CLOSED. DIVERSION.'

What were we to do? Sheer bravado, and eager determination left us in no doubt. We must reach the end of our journey as soon as possible. Grab the prospect of changing into dry clothes, and relaxing with a hot drink. We were eager to arrive as soon as possible. Go for the shortest route on our map. Wise in our fool-hardy conceit, we were not going to be deterred by a danger sign. Those, we thought, were for the faint-heart.

All too soon our arrogant folly caught up with us. Giant waves crashed over the coast-road we'd decided to take. What should we do now? Rashly we decided to press on, rather than turn back. After all, we were already soaking wet. A further drenching would make no difference. We didn't want to double back and prolong our miserable journey. Gradually the salty waves, crashing over our heads, caused our bikes to seize up. Every ball-baring became encrusted with salt. Peddling became harder and harder. At long last, utterly exhausted, we eventually reached our destination.

In a strange way this saga of many years ago is now telling me something about the purpose of God's Law -also its limitations. Far from being a strait-jacket that restricts movement, this Law is Divine Wisdom -a road map by which God shows His beloved people how to journey through life, responding to His love for them. Here He has chartered those quagmires which would destroy His people's love for Him. The Psalmist puts his love for God's Law beautifully,

"Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path,"

(Ps. 119. 105).

No wonder Jesus said He'd not come to destroy the Law, but to fulfil it. After all, it was God's Law, and Jesus never ceased to be God; it was given to the Jews, and He never ceased to be a Jew. No wonder He did not want to tear up the 'map of life' He Himself had given His people!

Instead, He came to provide a clearer map that would reveal what had never been suspected, and much that had been overlooked or misunderstood...a map of life with more inviting possibilities and more protective warnings. God's Law guides us through this life and leads us safely to eternal life and happiness. So the prophet Jeremiah advises us,

Thus says the Lord, 'Stand at the crossroads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way lies; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls.' But they said, 'We will not walk in it,'"

(Jer. 6. 16).

You'd think Jeremiah had Peter and me in mind when he wrote those words -our headstrong perversity in ignoring a well intentioned warning road-sign. Much more crass to spurn God's road-map for life, as though we knew better!

But maps, directions and even laws do have their limitations. They can tell us how to get from one place to another, and what dangers we should avoid. But that information alone will never give us the energy to start moving and keep going...to get on our bikes or to follow God's map of life and to persevere on our journey towards Him until our dying breath. We need God to do more than tell us where we should or should not go. We need Him to give us the will-power and energy to make the journey.

But then Jesus exclaims, "I am the way, and the truth and the life," (Jn. 14. 6). Not only does He show us the way to the Father, but He also gives us the energy to journey towards Him. Baptism sets us on our way and gives us a divine vitality, a dynamism to travel towards God.

So, I first meet God in studying and loving the map of life He has given us. Then I draw upon His energizing grace to journey towards Him. Out of love He has mapped out for me the way to eternal happiness with Him. I can trust Him not to lead me astray!

Isidore O.P.

In a fortnight Peter will meet God through 'Impossible Dreams.'

LOST PROPERTY

Far be it from me to admit that I was never a naughty child. God knows that I was, and so did my parents, who are now happily resting in the bosom of Abraham. God also knows that I was an adventurous and mischievous rascal. And so was my twin brother, Isidore. I leave it to him to tell his own tale.

And now we come to that day when we toddlers were going to visit one of those mega stores that promised so much excitement. From the moment of passing through the palatial entrance it was evident that there would be much to excite my curiosity and delight -so much to see, wonders to be discovered, corridors between counters and display stands to be explored. Mother, a caring soul, was lightly holding my twin brother and me by the hand. With a primitive instinct that escapees don't break out in a dramatic fashion, I slipped away from mother without her noticing. Gradually I drifted away from her as I peered this way and that, examining everything.

And then I espied the wonderland of toys -of teddy bears and rocking horses, building bricks and tricycles. With a mindless compulsion I was drawn on and on and on, from one toy to another -totally captivated.

But then I realized I was surrounded by strangers in an unfamiliar environment. I felt lonely, desolate. I panicked. I screamed for Mummy. I was afraid! But a kindly soul took me by the hand and calmed me down with soothing words. Holding me by the hand she took me into a small box-like room with no windows. A sliding door closed with a resounding clanking, clattering din.

Never before in my short life had I been so cut off from the world and everyone I knew and loved. And then there was the strange feeling in my gut that I was being taken up and up and up, and having nothing before my eyes to tell me it was so. Eventually this 'tin box' came to an abrupt halt.

The door gently slid open and we stepped out of the lift (elevator). In no time I heard a voice speaking into a mike my name and a description of me -a sweet little boy, with golden curls and wearing an orange shirt, bright red shorts and answering to the name of 'Peter.' "Would my mother kindly collect me from the 'LOST PROPERTY ROOM' -on the top floor of t this enormous building?!

In my infant ignorance I had wondered if she would be able to find me. No need to describe the reunion when mother reclaimed her 'lost property.' What a magic moment for both of us -she relieved that I had come to no harm; I ecstatic that mother had cherished me so much that she had sought me out until she could reclaim me and embrace me. She might so easily have blamed me.

And now, many years later, I realize that at this very tender age I had experienced the anguish of the lost sheep in the parable, and then the relief, the joy of being sought and being found by the shepherd -and not by a hungry wolf. In the parable the lost/found sheep was given a VIP welcome, a ride on the shepherd's shoulders.

Long after the event, I now reflect on the folly, the pain I had brought upon myself and upon my mother, all through my going after forbidden freedoms. And then I think of the beauty of discovering I was still cherished, wanted and welcomed by forgiving love after I had thought it smart to cut loose and 'do my own thing!'

A footnote. Excitedly I told my twin brother, Isidore, how this long forgotten episode had unexpectedly come to my mind and how I had promptly decided I could get a blog out of it. Immediately he chipped in that he had been the 'lost property' and had already used this episode in a sermon....Ah well! Mywaygodsway.

Peter O.P

In a fortnight Isidore will reflect on how maps help him to meet God

REMOVING LABELS

Poor Martha and Thomas! They've both had a bad press. Martha is stuck with the label of being over-active and fussy, of getting her priorities wrong. She's compared unfavourably with her contemplative sister, Mary. And Thomas will forever be known as the 'Doubter.' Though there's a certain truth in both these labels, they only describe one facet of each of their characters. These labels give an unbalanced and unjust impression. Far from helping us to understand each other labels can close our minds to the many facets of our characters. People are far too complicated and mysterious to be identified by a single label and then pigeon-holed. We need to strip off the labels, if we are to gain a balanced understanding.

That's very true with the label stuck on Martha. As she welcomed Jesus into her home, she prepared some refreshments, while her sister, Mary, kept Him company. That would happen when a guest visits any family or Dominican community. In different ways both sisters showed their love for Jesus. And He had no complaint about that arrangement.

It's usually forgotten that Martha wanted to join Jesus and her sister as soon as possible. That's why she complained to Jesus and asked Him to tell Mary to give her a hand with preparing the refreshments. But Jesus had a different approach -Martha should go to less trouble with the refreshments. That would free her to join them. After all, He'd come to enjoy the sisters' company, rather than to receive lavish refreshments. That's why Jesus didn't tell Mary to leave Him alone and help her sister.

Certainly there's a gentle rebuke here for Martha, who needed to get the balance right between doing things for those we love and making time to relax in their company. But that doesn't justify us sticking an indelible label on Martha for being hyper-active, in contrast with her contemplative sister.

That becomes very clear in another incident in which the two sisters feature -the raising of Lazarus. While Mary stayed at home weeping over the death of her brother, practical Martha went out to meet Jesus. With a robust faith she reproached Him for not staying to cure Lazarus. She then expressed her conviction that even after he'd been dead for several days Jesus could still restore him to life. Jesus was then able to draw out her faith in the resurrection so that she could accept Him as actually being, 'the resurrection and the life.'

Here we now see Martha as the contemplative, whose lively faith is deepened by questioning Jesus. And, like a good missionary, Martha leads her sister to Jesus. That is the prelude to His raising Lazarus from the dead. What a different Martha from the one who had been disparagingly labelled as 'hyper-active!'

Now for 'Doubting' Thomas. He was not the only one unwilling to believe that Jesus had risen from the dead. No one did! But Thomas expressed their scepticism more forcefully than anyone else. Before he was prepared to believe he wanted not only to see the risen Lord, but even to poke the wounds of His crucifixion.

But Thomas' doubts were but the beginning of a journey from the deepest scepticism to the greatest act of faith in all the Gospels. Once Thomas realized that Jesus had, indeed, risen from the dead, he exclaimed, 'My Lord and my God!' In all fairness he should be called, 'Believing,' not 'Doubting' Thomas! But, sadly, we do tend to think the worst of people, and dismiss them with a negative label.

The unjust way Martha and Thomas have been treated should warn us against sticking labels on anyone -especially when the labels mark them out as failures in our eyes. No single label can do justice to anyone. We're all too complicated and mysterious for that.

If that's true for us people, it's especially true when we think and talk about God. He's far too mysterious to be labelled and pigeon-holed. Idolatry lies in attempting to restrict God to the limits of our human understanding. Only when we are prepared to accept that He is a mystery, who defies labelling and pigeon-holing, can we begin to understand Him. That's what stripping the labels from Martha and Thomas -and from each other -has taught me.

Isidore O.P.

In a fortnight Fr. Peter will reflect on Lost Property