Stories abound

Thursday, our first full day of the PYE, was a day of stories.

The morning began with a Morning Prayer led by our group from the United States. There are many pilgrims in our group that are extremely talented musically. At times I am sad that I am not one of them, but I was also proud to be part of a group that led our 200 or so pilgrims in a rousing and moving morning prayer. We sang a setting of Psalm 63 (a very traditional psalm for morning prayer) that simply took hold of me (and I think most of the assembly). The cantor was Russel, a fellow Houstonian, and it was easy to see the look of pure joy on his face as he sang to the praise and glory of God. The assembly responded, clapping and swaying. The volume of the entire church kept going up as people seemed to abandon themselves to the prayer, losing all self-consciousness. It was wonderful.

The pastor of the parish that is serving as our host introduced the first session of input. He used the opening of the story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus as his jumping off point. When Jesus approached them he asked what they were discussing. They told him they were discussing the things that they had experienced in the past few days. Tha pastor stressed how much we can learn of God and God's activity in our lives by looking carefully at our own stories. There is much wisdom present for those willing to listen when we look inward.

The first person to share her story was a woman who works with those suffering from drug addictions here in Australia. Originally from Vietnam, she shared the story of how her parents had paid a smuggler to take her older brother out of the country. When the day arrived and the smugglers sent word that the one who was to go to freedom must be at a certain place within 30 minutes, her brother could not be found. So, she was sent in his place. She had no idea that her parents had planned for any of them to leave, so she had no opportunity to prepare herself and no chance to say goodbye to any of her friends of loved ones. Several weeks later she found herself completely alone - at 17! - in a refugee camp in Indonesia. There workers interviewed her extensively and eventually she was granted political refugee status by Australia. She arrived in the country alone and unable to speak any English. She spoke of the loneliness and isolation that she experienced and the struggle to make a new home for herself. I was deeply touched and can hardly begin to image what such an experience would be like. I fear that if I were to have been put in a situation similar to that I would not have made it. I know my own weakness and my profound fear of feeling alone and isolated. Paradoxically, the more alone I feel the harder it can be to reach out to other people, thus increasing the isolation. The strength she showed and the willingness to trust God were a great witness.

The second person to share her story was a religious sister currently working in Australia who grew up in Northern Ireland. She was just a small girl when the "Troubles" began. The Troubles are what the people of northern Ireland called the violence that broke out between the Catholic and Protestant communities. During a span of about 30 years nearly 4000 people would be killed and many more injured. Over half a million people were either directly affected by the violence or had a parent or sibling who was. She shared how it was to live in constant fear amid turmoil and strife. She spoke of how her own father fell under suspicion by the English authorities. How he was removed from their home in the middle of the night and interned, without charge, without evidence, and without any recourse whatsoever. She spoke of how the army came and destroyed the garden at her home in search of evidence, but found nothing. She spoke of the dehumanization that such things brought. And yet she stood before us, seaking also of reconciliation and healing. She was not an embittered woman, full of anger and hate. It was amazing to see how, as she freely admitted, through grace one can move through and beyond such things. It was no accident of history, it seems, that the accords that began to put an end to the Troubles were signed on Good Friday.

From these stories we had a chance to gather in our small groups for reflection. The time was short as the stories had gone longer than planned. I hope I did a good job of facilitating. This was only the second time we had to gather, and the time was not that long. It takes a while for strangers, many of whom do not speak English as their first languages, to begin to share with one another.

In the afternoon we again gathered in the Church for more input. The primary theme of the afternoon was JPIC - Justice, Peace, and the Integrity of Creation. We heard how the Passionist charism, to keep alive the memory of the Passion of Jesus Christ by being present to those who are today the crucified ones - animates and inspires this community's work for justice, peace, and the integrity of all creation. There were also several powerful stories as well.We heard from a Passionist priest in Australia who serves as a chaplain for a high school. Every year he leads a group of grade 11 students on a two week service project to an orphanage in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. It is hard to me to imagine one of our Catholic High schools organizing a two week service project on another continent. I was quite impressed to say the least. No ordinary orphanage either, this is a place for children with profound cognitive and physical disabilities. Both his own testimony of how the experience has helped in his own ongoing conversion and the recorded testimony of two of his students spoke of the amazing power of love to overcome fear, revulsion, and uncomfortability. In the video we watched they spoke with such conviction and joy of the surpise it was to them to have been touched in the ways they were. They spoke of how surprised they were at their own reaction. While they themselves did not make the comparison, I was reminded of the story of St. Francis and the leper. Francis had always feared and avoided lepers, but one day came upon one in the country side. Suddenly overcome he approched and embraced the leper. In later years he would say that which formerly had been bitter had become sweet. This was a critical moment in his conversion. I could see the same was true of these high school boys.

Another story was from a Passionist who lives and ministers in Italy, working with drug treatment programs. I must admit that his story was harder to follow. He spoke in Italian. Another priest translated into Spanish. Then a third priest translated the Spanish into English. Not only could I only understand 1/3 of the time, I had the suspicion that I was hearing only part of the story, as the telling in each language got progressively shorter. Still, the message that came through was one of love. Those who fall victim to drugs often do so because they are seeking to fill a void in their lives. The only thing that can fill that void is real love. Those who minister to them must be willing to love them wholly and completely - just as Jesus did - if they have any hope of touching them. Only once these sick and broken people feel real and authentic love from others can they begin to love themselves and accept that they are beloved by God.

The final story of the afternoon was from a Passionist sister, originally from Northern Ireland, who now lives and works in Bosnia, a part of the former Yugoslavia. There, she and another sister, have helped to bring hospice (care for those terminally ill) and palliative (pain management) care to the people of Bosnia. She spoke of the great brokenness and indifference she experienced when she first arrived. The people of Bosnia had been so traumatized by war that they could not find it within themselves to care for those who were terminally ill. There was no tradition of palliative care, and so many cancer patients died in extreme pain, often alone. She told the dual stories of a society beginning to heal and the emergence of hospice care. Today there are facilities and training programs, home care programs and better available pain management medication. What was perhaps most impressive about her story is the way in which she told it, full of laughter and smiles, full of jokes and self deprecation. Something so serious, so painful, so sobering was communicated again with great love and joy. Over and over agian this seems to be the key - the Passion of Jesus is lived over and over again only if it is lived as Jesus lived it, with great and abiding and overflowing love.

In the evening we gathered for a celebration of the Eucharist, and after dinner a Reconciliation service with an opportunity for individual confessions. This last was conducted primarily in Portuguese by the members of the Brazilian contigent. It too contained some powerful moments. The story of Nathan's confrontation of David following his murder (to cover up his adultery) was acted out. The priest who played the part of David, after having been confronted with the denunciation "You are the man" sang psalm 51 (Have mercy on me, O God, in you kindness) with such passion and devotion and sincerity that I was literally moved to tears. I could see and feel real contrition and sorrow, a real desire for reconciliation and forgiveness. I have prayed that psalm many times, but I had never connected it to that story or felt it as powerfully as I did that night. The same priest also sang the entire story of the man who had two sons. Even though I do not speak a word of Portuguese, he made that story come alive as well. Reflecting on it, I know how often I am like that elder son. Full of obedience but also full of resentment and hardness of heart. I took something powerful from that as well.

It was a very full day indeed.