ONLY A FILM

I'd enjoyed reading the book -a brilliant, imaginative and convincing fantasy. Seeing it on a small screen was a revelation to me of the creative skills of the experts in computer technology. It was also a big let-down. How can one be impressed by imagery, no matter how exciting or romantic, when men and women appear no larger than toy soldiers and elephants are as small as the pet gerbil!

Everything changed when I was taken to see the same drama on a large cinema screen. Loud speakers were distributed throughout the auditorium so that all of us seemed to be encased in a capsule of sound.

There was I with my brothers engrossed in watching the film, "Jurassic Park." We had just been given an episode that was as serene as the Garden of Eden (NB -before the Fall !).It was so relaxing and reassuring to be drawn into a world that seemed to be totally at peace with itself. Small wonder I had drifted off into a cozy, dreamy doze.

And then ...an enormous, fearsome dinosaur filled the whole screen, silent..poised, menacing. Unexpectedly, a huge roar reverberated throughout the cinema. The thrusting monster leaped forward...at me, seated in one of the front rows, nearest the screen. Without a thought I rose from my seat and in terror yelled, "Oh, God!" at the top of my voice. Never before and never since have I felt such an urgent need for God to come to my rescue.

Of course, the spell of this day-time nightmare was immediately broken when everyone in the cinema began to laugh at impressionable me. For my part, I was shaken, emotionally exhausted. It had been so real. But then there were my brothers to bring me round to laugh at myself.

Only much later was I able to reflect on what had for me been a shattering experience. I was much sobered by the thought that I, and I suppose all other fellow human beings, do not have control of our emotional reactions. We cannot turn them off and on as easily as we can the images on our TV screens. Images can be so over-powering that at the time we are unable to distinguish between the fictional and the factual. We simply enter and identify with what is being presented to us.

I'm not ashamed to admit that I have wept when viewing DVDs of 'Les Miserables' and 'La Boheme.' Who has been left cold and unmoved when watching on-screen drama which is violent or sensual? Let no-one tell us it's only a film and these actions are being acted out. And that they're not reality.

True enough! Up to a point! Beyond that point we are liable to be influenced in our thinking, our attitudes and possibly our behaviour by what passes for reality shows and virtual reality. They can be for us an occasion of sin..in which, without thinking or consenting, we identify with screened hatred, jealousy, spite and vengeance or with lustful cravings. There will be those who will be inclined to act out in real life what they've seen acted in the world of fiction, without realizing that the seeds of these dispositions were sown during a time of recreation.

At the very least God has taught me to reflect on my outburst in the cinema and to question seriously the effect the mass media of communication has on the innocence of my imagination, my desires and fears, and ultimately on my conduct. Mywaygodsways through a dinosaur, as it were.

In truth, 'Only a Film' -what a film !

Peter O.P.

Next week Isidore will reflect on, "Ears but cannot hear."

We have installed a device to enable us to filter out the unsavoury abuse of what is meant to be a religious blog. This means there will be a slight delay between your making your comments and their being posted. Please don't let that put you off. We want to know what you think and will certainly publish criticisms and disagreements.

Peter and Isidore

MESSING ABOUT IN BOATS

Messing about in boats -the English love it! Not that we have a monopoly in this pass-time.

A number of years ago a friend invited me to join him and three others on a week's holiday on a fifty foot long barge. There's something special about that kind of holiday. The speed limit is 4mph. Anything faster and the barge's wash would damage the canal banks. After a few days my whole approach to life slowed down. On my return to terra firma I found the speed of traffic became intimidating; crossing a road scary. I resented the headlong rush following upon the leisurely pace of canal life.

And the whole canal environment, rooted in the industrial revolution, was fascinating. As we chugged along I marveled at the engineering feat in constructing the canals in order to move non-perishable goods around the country. Long tunnels or cuttings had to be hewn through rocky hillsides, or flights of locks constructed to go over rather than through them. There's the contrast between the quiet countryside, with its special canal wildlife, and then the approach to an industrial town by the 'tradesman's entrance,' with warehouses on the banks. These reminded me that the canals were originally constructed for industry, rather than for holiday- makers like me.

So far so good...but then I wonder. Was I made for crazy situations? Or were they made for me? Any way let me tell you about a bit of canal craziness.

Among us five there was this experienced ocean sailing yachtsman. He'd been so conditioned by the open seas that when we arrived at the marina to pick up our barge he asked for a compass. He didn't realize that the direction of our journey would be determined by that of the canal, not be a compass. And he couldn't adjust from the mindset of the open seas to that of inland waterways. So, although there were drinking-water taps every few miles along the banks of the canal, he was in constant fear of our running out of water. As a result he insisted on us filling up every pot and pan whenever we came to a tap.

This nautical expert was keen to impress us landlubbers with his seamanship. So, when he came to moor the barge he leaped from the prow with the rope in his hand. Unfortunately its length spanned only half the distance to the bank. Out he shot.. only to be jerked to a sudden halt. Still holding the rope in his hand he plummeted beneath the canal waters.

That was but the start of his misfortunes. After changing into some dry clothes he put his wet ones on the barge roof to dry. Up sprang a gust of wind, whisking his shorts overboard. Having retrieved them he sat disconsolately in the bows, nursing a strong drink. Whereupon a fly settled on his nose. As he brushed the irritant away he swept his spectacles off his nose and into the canal. Sad to say, after spending some time treading the muddy bottom he never found them. "Wet, deflated and miserable" about describes this nautical impresario.

I must confess that we were all amused that someone who had been so eager to impress us had come such a cropper. In his case pride had certainly come before a fall!

But how do I meet God in all this ? Well, in the 'Magnificat' we're told that He casts the mighty from their thrones and exalts the lowly. But I would do well not to become too smug about my friend's misadventures -lest in my pride, I, too, should be heading for a fall. St. Paul tells us about God choosing the foolish to confound the wise. So perhaps I need the painful lesson of making a fool of myself, and being brought low, If I'm to learn some wisdom and meet God. The foolish bit I can easily manage -but learning wisdom from my folly is another matter!

Isidore O.P.

Next week Fr Peter will Meet God in 'Only a Film'

We have installed a device to enable us to filter out the unsavoury abuse of what is meant to be a religious blog. This means there will be a slight delay between your making your comments and their being published. Please don't let this put you off. We want to know what you think and will certainly publish criticisms and disagreements. Peter and Isidore

MAN'S BEST FRIEND?

This was one of those glorious days that promised to be completely satisfying and gratifying. The sun was shining as I set out to take Holy Communion to the sick and the aged in their homes, rounding off the morning with a visit to the General Hospital where I would administer the Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick to several patients.

I enjoy this ministry because I invariably witness the consolation this Sacrament brings. I am moved and inspired by their strong faith. Their appreciation makes me feel good about my priesthood. When possible I try not to make very many calls, so that I can have the leisure to exchange a few pleasantries with all the family.

Sometimes when I recite the Second Joyful Mystery of the Rosary that is the Visitation, I, carrying Jesus in the Eucharist to homes, identify with Mary, who carried Jesus in her womb to the home of her cousin Elizabeth. It is a privilege to be a Christ bearer to others.

Now I have a problem Reaching God ...My Way. It's like this.
Just as I was leaving the last house of my rounds a vicious little dog rushed out from beneath the house and bit my leg. Look at my trouble! Where was God in this! What was He saying to me? How did He expect me to reach Him in these circumstances? My first reaction was that a dog is not necessarily man's best friend -certainly not mine!

After receiving my anti-tetanus injection I reflected on how readily the sick and the frail relate their own disabilities to Jesus, who suffered, died and rose for them. Their triumph is that with Christ-like trust in their heavenly Father they can unite their own vulnerability with that of Jesus. He understands and shares their pain. They understand and share His. They draw consolation in their tribulations from this Sacrament of communion with Jesus in His own suffering, death and resurrection.

My thoughts then turned to the Ministers of the Eucharist. There have been times, and there are still situations, when it is hazardous to life itself for priests to celebrate Mass and to take the Sacraments to the sick.

From this perspective my dog bite was trivial -no big thing!. All the same, it has been salutary for me to recognise that men have so valued their ministry that they have been prepared to expose themselves to extreme occupational hazards. Who am I, then, to complain about a bite from an unfriendly dog? No room here for self-pity, nor for the presumption of identifying myself with these courageous witnesses to the Faith.

I Reach God ...My Way by accepting with tranquility that I was called to shed blood, no more than a couple of drops, in God's good cause.

Peter O.P.

Next week Isidore will meet God ...through messing about in boats.

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LEAD KINDLY LIGHT

Less than two years a priest! Only a few months in the Caribbean island of Grenada and I'm required to stand in for a priest who was sick. At first I was somewhat daunted because of my complete lack of experience...the first time in my life to be completely alone...in the presbytery, having to fix the Coleman paraffin lamp and adjust the 'Cat's Whisker' crystal set radio.

I soon came to love every minute of walking the roads and hill-side tracks; en route meeting and greeting each and all, and receiving warm welcomes as I was invited into homes and offered drinks.

However, I had not yet got used to the tropical bright daylight swiftly rushing into evening darkness. As long as I was on the main road lighted candles and lamps guided me towards the presbytery.

This was approached by a steep avenue of trees. After a few paces nothing visible ahead of me, but total, solid darkness. At least I knew I was heading in the right direction. The hard even surface of the road was sufficient to keep me on course. When I strayed somewhat I met soft, tufty grass.

Progress was so far so good..until I collapsed onto a very solid lump of something, which surged and heaved itself upwards in one violent thrust that sent me hurtling backwards, surprised, shaken, bruised.

No need to speculate about what I'd encountered. It bellowed and brayed, pounding away from me in shocked indignation. Wouldn't you have done the same? The poor donkey had been violently awakened from its pleasant dreams. It knew not by what. It could not see me. It's limited experience of parish priests had never prepared it for this.

Come to think of it, nothing that I had been taught by my learned tutors at Blackfriars, Oxford, had prepared my priesthood for this. They might have cautioned me lest I got myself into trouble...but not, surely, the trouble of tripping over dormant donkeys!

An obvious lesson to be learned would be never to step out of the house without a flash-light, even the micro penlight version.

Only many years later, more than forty, when I'd got into this 'blog business' did it occur to me that there must be a spirituality to this episode in my priestly curriculum vitae. There must be something God wants me to share with you that might somehow be helpful to you. And surely He, stirring up these long dead memories, must, in these days, want me to learn something that would contribute to my own spiritual well-being.

Very much to the point are those words in Sacred Scripture about those who walk in darkness and in the shadow of death; also people being children of the light and children of darkness. And what about Psalm 119 (118),v.5, always a favourite with me?

'Your word is a lamp for my steps and a light for my path.

I have sworn and made up my mind to obey your decrees.'

I think of the confusion, the pain and the shame I have brought to my own life, and, by direct consequence, into the lives of other people through my following my own lights, rather than allowing myself to be enlightened by God. This has been when I've stuck to my own opinions and preferences rather than do what I knew for certain was the will of God.

Mywaygodsway must be that I must always carry His light, never put out His light, never, never, never! For my own sake and that of others!

Peter O.P.

Next week Isidore will reflect on meeting God in a Place of My Own

RESCUED FROM THE SCRAPHEAP

Just after World War II Army Surplus Stores were rich quarries for lads like Peter and me! They were real treasure-troves in which we could rummage through what other people had rejected. For us this was a real adventure -a journey of discovery. We delighted in using our ingenuity to see if we could find the components for making something useful out of what had been discarded. We relished the challenge -we still do.

From the shop near our home in Birmingham we found all we needed for making a 'cat's whisker' radio crystal set. Imagine our excitement when it produced its first sound, which was remarkably clear. From the same source we also made a photographic enlarger. And in the same spirit I later cannibalized two old cameras and made a zoom lens. In an earlier blog posting Peter has shown how eagerly we rose to the challenge of solving a problem by putting a familiar object, such as a flower support, to a new use -organizing his pens.

I suppose this instinct to throw away nothing and re-cycle everything was developed during wartime austerity. Since new materials and objects were scarce the motto was, "Make do and mend." Delight in responding to this challenge has stuck with us. And not only with Peter and me. A fellow Dominican student far surpassed us in his creative scavenging. He took great pride in showing us the bicycle, which he'd put together from parts he gleaned from a scrap yard. What's more it worked! To do something like that is much more satisfying than going to a shop and buying a brand new bike, radio or lens.

True, my refined and well-organized brethren mock me for being an incurable and somewhat chaotic hoarder, who believes that everything will eventually become useful. But they don't hesitate to come to me when they need something, such as a piece of string, a nail or a tool. Usually I've got it, and smugly I would give it to them!

While Peter and I have made an exciting hobby out of rescuing rejects from the scrapheap, this, precisely, is God's speciality. His focus is not on material objects, but on people. In this He seems to go out of His way to stack the odds against Himself. He chooses the most unlikely people to do His work -the weak and foolish of this world, So St.Paul tells us,

"God chose what is foolish in the world in order to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong," (1 Cor. 1. 27).

Thus, the prophet Ezekiel likens God's Chosen People to a baby girl, abandoned in the desert to die. He found her, took her into His home, bestowed His riches on her and made her His queen and bride, (cf. Ezekiel ch. 16). In similar vein God chose Gideon -the least from the weakest of the tribes of Israel -to defeat their powerful enemy. David, a shepherd boy, not a powerful warrior, was chosen to slay the giant, Goliath. And Jesus selected a small group of fishermen to become the foundation stones of the New People of God, with the responsibility of spreading the Gospel throughout the world.

Jesus reached out to those who were in any way marginalized as social rejects. He had a special affection for those whom others dismissed as worthless. He mixed with lepers, who would have made Him ritually unclean. He made time to welcome those whom the self-important brushed aside -young children or the blind beggar, Bartimaeus. He drew attention to the generosity of a poor widow, who gave all that she had. Jesus held such despised people up as having the qualities required of a true disciple.

Above all, Jesus welcomed sinners, whom the self-righteous dismissed as worthless no-hopers. As He forgave them He welcomed them into a loving relationship with God. He gave them back their self respect, and removed their crushing burden of guilt. God's love and mercy gives even the greatest of sinners another chance. When they -we -have fallen, He gets us back onto our feet so that, with His help, we can move forward.

Not only does God rescue those who have been confined to the scrapheap of life. Through the power of His loving mercy they receive the dignity of becoming the children of God. They begin to share His divine life and happiness. And no matter how limited our powers, and however weak and frail we may be, God has a special role for each one of us to play. No one need feel useless or worthless.

By reflecting on my delight at the way other people's rejects can become treasures for Peter and me I've come to realize something of God's joy at rescuing those who have been cast onto the scrapheap. They have been restored as His beloved sons and daughters. If I'm to meet God I must share in His rescue operation, helping those who have become the flotsam of life to gain the dignity and respect of being the children of God. Above all, I must remember with eternal gratitude that it's not just other wretches whom God has salvaged from the scrapheap of life. It's you and me -the whole human race -which had become no-hopers, cut off from God through sin.

"Once you were not a people, but now you are God's people;

once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy."

(1 Peter 2. 10)

Isidore O.P.

Next week Fr. Peter will meet God as he reflects on 'Lead Kindly Light.'

THROUGH DINOSAURS AND OLD FOSSILS

O.K -I'm not that old, even though I may be past my prime! In fact dinosaurs lived long ago and became extinct millions of years ago. So, I've never seen one. Nor am I likely to. But their remains have been fossilized and these are fascinating. If you've seen the film, 'Jurassic Park' you will know that some dinosaurs were enormous. The name 'dinosaur' means 'Powerful Lizard.' Some of them certainly lived up to that name and were shapely.. weird and wonderful!

I, like many others, am fascinated by dinosaurs, and with the other beasties which lived in that period. In fact I'm proud to say I have a fossil of a small ammonites, which lived about sixty millions years ago -long, long before people inhabited the earth. The fossilized remains of that small creature, resting on my mantle piece, take me back to the age of the dinosaur. That puts small-time me in perspective!

Suddenly these weird creatures of long ago became extinct. Scientists suggest that there must have been some cataclysmic event which wiped them out. Possibly a dramatic change in climate, perhaps caused by an enormous meteorite falling into the Gulf of Mexico, or an unusually large volcanic eruption. Whatever the cause, there was widespread extinction of many life forms. Even the most powerful of creatures were vulnerable to the immense forces of nature. We puny creatures wouldn't have stood a chance -if we'd been around in those days.

As I look at my ancient ammonite my mind reels at the thought that it lived so long ago. We human beings are a mere blip in the passage of time. We seem so insignificant in comparison with the age of the dinosaurs, which itself lasted millions of years. The Psalmist expresses my sense of wonder and awe, "What is man that you, (God), are mindful of him, that you care for him?" (Ps. 8. 4). And yet, and yet Almighty God has been mindful of us. He has made us in His own image and likeness. He has called us to share His own life and happiness. The Son of God has even become one of us -a human being. He has lived among us, has died for us and has risen from the grave for us. God did none of this for any of His other creatures -not even the magnificent dinosaurs.

I'm filled with a deep sense of wonder at what God has done for us people. The greatness of His love has raised us from the smallness of our creatureliness. God has indeed exalted the lowly and put down the mighty! In a Christmas sermon Pope Saint Leo the Great wrote,

"O Christian remember your dignity!"

-not something we deserve, but something freely given us by God, simply because He loves us and want us to share His very life, enjoying His company and happiness. If God can love and respect us so much we have no right to despise ourselves or anyone else.

And as I marvel at the dinosaurs I'm filled with wonder at the great variety in creation. Each animal or plant gives glory to God, simply by being itself. We people can reflect on God's creation and can speak. We should thank and praise Him for the wonder of His creatures, both the tiny and the huge ones. Each of them reflects something of His glory. And we people are the most amazing of all His creatures.

So, I thank God for the dinosaurs. Even though they became extinct long ago and I can never see them they can still lead me to God -without their knowing it. Just to think about tyrannosaurus rex makes me feel puny. I'm forced to wonder that God should even notice me. And yet I'm far more important to Him than the largest and most powerful of dinosaurs. My amazement grows as I reflect on the millions of years separating the dinosaurs and me. But if the dinosaurs cut me down to size, God's love lifts me up to share His eternal life and happiness. It is in this sense of wonder, inspired by the enormous dinosaurs and my small ammonite fossil, that I meet the God of glory.

A final thought -although I'm fascinated by dinosaurs I would be terrified if I ever met one!

Isidore O.P.

Next week Isidore will meet God in Scavenging.'

PAPILLON! PAPILLON!

"Papillon! Papillon!"...."Butterfly! Butterfly!"

We all thought the world had gone mad when our quiet and seemingly respectable guest stepped out of his room, dressed in his hunting attire and equipment...fit for hunting what? Not foxes or elephants, but butterflies!!!

This all happened at our Dominican priory in Grenada...a charming place with flower garden and wasteland. This man, this zealot, this fanatic charged up slopes and through bushes, waving his net on a long pole, gleefully yelling, "Papillon! Papillon!" -"Butterfly! Butterfly!" as he swooped down triumphantly netting an exotic butterfly...not because he hated it, just the opposite.

He admired its beauty, its rarity and wanted to preserve it so that he could show it to others. This collector of butterflies surged forward, clambered and thrust himself with the enthusiasm of a committed collector. and, as with all true collectors, the hunting, acquiring or even the capturing are far more to be treasured than the possessing.

As a schoolboy I was an avid collector of stamps. The satisfaction came in swapping stamps with friends with all the haggling and bargaining this involved. There's nothing very clever in having enough money to buy what you fancy from the store that you are certain will have it in stock!

What a tale 'Monsieur Papillon' would have to tell when he proudly showed off to his friends and family the new acquisition to his collection from the glorious islands in the Caribbean. He might have had a thing to say about us Dominicans, as we quizzed him about his exploits in building up his collection! His butterflies would speak more eloquently about the kind of vacation he had had than any souvenir that a tourist could purchase from a road-side vendor.

And this brings me to my fascination at the way Jesus drew upon the symbolism we attach to things to enable Him, with masterful ingenuity, to wriggle out of a catch-question that had been put to Him. "Is it permissible to pay taxes to Caesar, or not?" "Should we pay," yes or no?" Pay to Caesar, the much resented imperial master of the Land God had given to His people.

Jesus asked for a coin to be given Him. No doubt someone in the crowd dipped his hand into his pocket or purse and brought out a collection of coins -just as I have to do when I'm paying my bus fare. He then asked them whose face was depicted there, and whose name? Caesar's of course! And everyone knew the significance of the name...that of the Roman Emperor. All were aware of the significance of the coin -paying taxes to the much loathed Roman Empire.

Every time these coins were used for the payment of taxes they carried a message..not simply conveying a piece of information about their commercial value...but a distasteful reminder of the humiliating situation of the people subjected to foreigners.

I love the way Jesus was able to put a spiritual, theological, and very pragmatic spin to the significance of this common coin. "Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God."

To me it is very, very interesting that in the early years of Christianity people were faulted for having statues and paintings of religious persons or events...faulted because they savoured of idolatry. Even in our own day there are those who make this accusation. According to this mentality these images are dead. They are meaningless. They are misleading. It's a waste of time to pay them any attention.

Nowadays, those who display religious images in public places are faulted because their images are alleged to be saying too much, conveying a weighty meaning that is offensive to some. I think of the unspoken eloquence of the crucifix or the crib, a picture of the Madonna. They bear witness to a faith that people cherish, and even die for...a faith that others abhor.

Monsieur Papillon, Butterfly Man, you crazy, beloved collector, you have brought me to appreciate what is so helpfully present to us in symbols. They point us towards mysteries too vast, too sacred for us to be able to grasp with our senses or express with words. You have been for me mywaygodsway of coming to some understanding of the present controversy between those who insist on displaying symbols of their religious convictions, while others resort to every means to prevent this.

Peter O.P.

Next week Dinosaurs and Old Fossils will help Fr. Isidore meet God.