UK: Here we come!

For the last month I have been in the Solomon Islands, attending the Brothers' Chapter at Hautambu and also working with the Simply Living Mission team bound for the UK tomorrow, the 21st of March. It has been an exciting month, but with very limited access to the internet. Twice I have tried to post, only to lose everything during enexpected blackouts that are a daily occurrence in Honiara. No power, once no water: life in Honiara can be challenging. Two weeks ago I learned that the Brothers have re-elected me as Minister General for another term (4 years this time).

Right now the Solomon Islands are in a state of emergency: dengue fever has packed the Central Hospital. There are anywhere between 400 and 800 cases in the country (record keeping can be more anecdotal than precise). The parish served by the brothers in Honiara, All Saints, has buried two children so far. Today (Wednesday March 20) was a national clean up day: all government and public offices were closed and people organized to clean up anyplace that can provide hospitality for mosquitoes. Residents have heaped up old tires, cans, plastic rubbish: truckloads go to the dump. Dengue fever is a virus not a parasite like malaria, so the Solomon Islanders have no drugs that are effective against it. A friend who is a nurse and works at the Central Hospital told me they can only recommend people drink lots of water and eat fruit, and rest a lot. Two special wards have been opened, where they give patients IV fluid to keep them hydrated. This is quite a blow for these Islands. People in good health with good immune systems can withstand dengue, but they become carriers, and so that when they are bitten the virus is spread. A real nightmare. I heard today that travelers to other islands not yet affected are being tested for the virus.

In the midst of this, 10 brothers and sisters have been preparing for a two and a half month mission to England. We are all healthy, but are well briefed on dengue symptoms if they appear while in England. I am the leader of the group, and we take off tomorrow. Yesterday we packed our costumes and bamboo panpipes, wooden drums and shell decorations and sprayed everything with bug-killer under the watchful eye of a quarantine officer who gave us a certificate. I hope the prayers of thousands of Melanesians (and yours too) will get us past UK Border patrol.

In the past several months the team has taught itself all the skills they need to share to make the Mission a successs: skilled dancers have taught the others, musicians have coached non-musicians. Working in pairs they have prepared presentations on social justice, care of the environment and a special Bible Study on the Sermon on the Mount. We have prayed together, lived together and I believe God has worked powerfully among these young men and women, brothers and sisters in the four Anglican Religious Orders of the Anglican Church of Melanesia.

Whenever I come here I try to share all that the Franciscan brothers do. In addition to Minister General type things like leading their retreat or counselling them or sitting in on meetings, planning groups and budget strategy meetings, I have preached at the Christian Care Center for abused women and children, preached at Selwyn College, and at All Saints Church, Honiara. I have also delighted in carrying gravel on my shoulders, weeding gardens, helping out in the kitchen: don't forget that means starting fires, chopping firewood, killing chickens--the whole nine yards of primitive food prep! A special horror was taking a machete to the underbrush in the coconut plantation the friars share with the Sisters of Melanesia. After one and a half hours I had to give up as my body was covered with red ants feasting on EVERY inch of my body. The skin bubbled up and started to burn. Almost in a frenzy I asked the brothers "Don't they bite you too?" They laughed and said yes, "but the pain goes away in about an hour!!" They endure it with equanimity knowing the pain is short lived. Plus the pragmatic assesment that they have no alternative and brush must be cut, the plantation cleaned and more trees planted. I felt guilty wimping out. But ant attack is a sure-fire kind of torture.

Prayer, hardwork and a message to share about God's love in times of medical emergencies, crumbling infrastructure, ant bites: God's love is real. The laughter ringing out all around me as I type these words come from men and women working together to prepare a huge farewell barbeque. We will eat, sing, tell stories and share the strength that comes from faith in God. None of us knows what tomorrow will bring, whether we fly to UK or continue to fight the dengue epidemic. But all of us know that God will be with us, and for this we give thanks and praise.

Teaching in Stroud, Australia

For the last month I have been teaching with Brothers Alfred BoonKong, Bruce-Paul and Christopher John at a Spirituality Program SSF offers brothers, historically brothers from the Solomon Islands (SI) and brothers from Papua New Guinea (PNG). This year we opened it up to include brothers from the Province of the Divine Compassion: Korea, New Zealand, Australia and Sri Lanka--the province is called the Province of the Divine Compassion (PDC). One of the brothers from Korea (Cyril) was able to be with us for a month of the program, but he has already gone home, and Christopher John has gone back to school in Dunedin, New Zealand (where he is getting a doctorate). In addition to learning about the vows of obedience, poverty and chastity, we studied the SSF Principles, the spirituality of Francis and Clare, the Psalms and the Daily Office SSF. The brothers from The Solomon Islands and Papua New Guinea have been away from home since the end of November. We all go back to our home provinces this week (I go to the Solomon Islands, my home-away-from-home). Above you see us in our "classroom" the beautiful friary common room. Like most of the buildings at Stroud it is made of handmade adobe mud bricks.

It has been a fabulous time. Whenever you add 4 extra brothers to a small friary, it can be a challenge. But the home team has been incredibly gracious and we all felt totally at home. In addition to studies we have done lots of projects around the friary: cutting grass mostly, but also cutting trees, planting trees, pulling weeds, caring for the vegetable garden, and (my favorite) scrambling down into the water tanks to clean out the muck. Cool business on some ferociously hot days. Cooking was a daily challenge and eating together a daily consolation. A couple of times I was accompanied on a run by a brother, too. Others went to the local pool. All in all, it was a healthy balance of body, mind and spirit.

Sunday we decided to celebrate the completion of the course, and Brother Simone's birthday with a meal out, at an all-you-can-eat restaurant. Here we are, stuffed and happy. From left to right, home province noted after our names: Simone (PDC), Luke Manitara (SI), Alfred BoonKong (PDC), Matthew Sikiboki (SI), Clark Berge (USA), Bruce-Paul (PDC) and Wilbert Bamemba (PNG).

A Vowed Life

The weeks fly by, and there's lots of grist for the mill.

Popes and archbishops resign and retire, and the church and world continue.

Perhaps the best comment I read about Benedict XVI's resignation is that it keeps the focus on the church, and what is best for the church--having a physically and mentally fit leader is very important.

Obviously some Roman Catholics disagree about retirement versus serving for life; but fitness rings a bell with me. Being physically fit and mentally alert are important for anyone seeking to lead. "Physically fit" doesn't mean running marathons either--some of us like distance running, but I know folks in wheelchairs who could lead anything they wanted to--differently abled and fit as a fiddle.

I have been teaching about the vows to four brothers gathered at one of our friaries in NSW, Australia. We talked about obedience as listening carefully and conforming our lives to God, the Scriptures, our Founders, each other and nature. This last category includes listening to, and caring for, our bodies. I think the Pope's resignation is a wonderful example of the kind of obedience to the body I am talking about.

The other two vows are of course poverty and chastity. Poverty in the sense of trusting each other, living interdependently and humbly. It means recognizing our limits in exerting our will, and living in solidarity with the economically poor. I dont think I have ever used the Pope as a positive example so much before; but here again we have a beautiful example of poverty as humility in the recognition that the future belongs in others' hands.

Chastity, as I am often at pains to point out, is not just about no sex. It is also about self control in speech, showing love and care, patience and kindness: the fruits of the Holy Spirit. We sin against chastity when we say harsh or intemperate things as much as when we break a celibate commitment. To acknowledge honestly and graciously the limitations of life, to manifest gracious acceptance is a kind of chastity which more people might take to heart. Certainly it is a challenge and an invitation to all Christians and me and my brothers as we learn more and more about our vows and the lives we have been called to live.

I wish Benedict XVI a joyful, peaceful retirement.

Christmas in Africa

December 6 I flew from Jerusalem via Ethiopia to Johannesburg, then to Port Elizabeth. A driver met me and transported me to Grahamstown on the Eastern Cape of South Africa. The Order of the Holy Cross has a magnificent monastery here: Mariya uMama weThemba Monastery (Mary Mother of Hope). I've been here a couple times before, and last time, the brothers asked me to come stay for a longer time than 4 or 5 days--anytime I wanted! So, not having to be asked twice, I booked in for the time between Jerusalem and Australia in my itinerary: alomst six weeks. I was able to join them for their long retreat (the ideal way to prepare for Christmas--in silence!), and then with pounding drums and carols in Xhosa, Afrikaans, and English we welcomed the newborn King.

New Year's Eve day, Br. Daniel OHC, the prior of the Monastery, and I drove to Addo Elephant Sanctuary, and--joy of joys!--found ourselves in the midst of a herd of them. We also spotted ostrich, warthogs, kudu, springbok, and countless birds. Along the highway we passed other wildlife refuges and I was able to add giraffes and water buffalo to my tally.

Closer to home I sometimes have to negotiate with a troop of baboons who live on the same road as the monastery. I was warned by the brothers, if I saw any baboons to give them a wide berth. So, as I was nearing the five mile mark on one of my jogs, I looked up and saw a large baboon peering down at me from a tree stump or maybe fence post. Others looked up from their foraging at the roadside--I suddenly realized I was surrounded by them. I stopped. They shifted to look at me better. I turned and started running back the way I'd come. Give me dogs any day.

But mostly my time here has been uneventful: prayer, rest, rejuvenation. On the retreat I was able to take stock of my life and ministry. Learning of my Uncle's death while I was on the retreat I found myself wondering how much longeer I have to live. Ultimately I decided I can never know, but the thing is to live everyday to the fullest. Right now that means really being here, in this place with all my heart and attention.

I adopted a kooky Franciscan method of Bible reading during the retreat, not having a program to follow: I opened the Bible at random like Francis did, three times each day. Wherever my finger fell that was my text for prayer. Francis discerned the first Franciscan rule this way. The Spirit nudged me to passages that said "don't be afraid!": Acts 27:24, 2 Cor 4:16 (we do not lose heart)and similar passages. On the last day I read: "For this very reason you must make every effort to support your faith with goodness, and goodness with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with endurance, and endurance with godliness, and godliness with brotherly affection, and brotherly affection with love. For if these things are yours and are increasing among you, they keep you from being ineffective and unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ (2Peter 1:5-7).

So that is my rule for 2013.

Deo gratias

Labyrinth Jerusalem

For years I have been teaching about the labyrinth, drawing connections between walking the labyrinth and pilgrimage, especially pilgrimage to Jerusalem.

So here I am! In Jerusalem: amazing.

THE WALK IN

I was reminded of my words about the labyrinth last night as I walked around and around in the old city of Jerusalem. I got completely lost--no surprise to family or friends reading this, I am sure. Friendly people all along the way tried to re-orient me, and always offered encouragement: "It's so close, you can't miss it!"

"Everything that happens on the way is part of the pilgrimage" I tell harried people arriving at Little Portion on Long Island, NY, having gotten hopelessly lost on the different roads that all bear the same name "Old Post Road." In Jerusalem, after a while ducking through the souk, stumbling up the cobbled steps of the narrow streets, staring right and left at beautiful people, ancient buildings and tempting trays of sweets, I was very, very lost. That's when I began to think about the labyrinth.

A group of pilgrims, "originally from New Zealand, but our group is from Singapore" (go figure) pointed me towards a low arch covered with vines and festooned with handbags for sale: "The Holy Sepulchre Basilica is right through there!" they said.

WHAT I BRING TO MY PILGRIMAGE

I always ask people to try and identify what they carry with them as they begin their labyrinth walk/pilgrimage. For me: disorientation in the dark, a metaphor for life! Also what I call the Two Votes. The first vote was while I was in London last week, when the Church of England's Synod rejected women bishops. It brought back the incredibly disagreeable struggle of 25 years ago in the Episcopal Church. I remember a priest saying to me then "One can no more ordain a woman than one can ordain a potato!" Miserable man. Thank God the Episcopal church has embraced women bishops and elected a woman Primate.

The second vote was the UN vote on Palestine that happened in New York last night. "What would happen?" I wondered.

I'd been to Bethlehem on Wednesday and passed through the military check points and contemplated the massive wall. The world has watched bombs and rockets dropping in Israel and Gaza the past few weeks.

And I was also on a personal errand to read (as durected) all of Psalm 119. 176 verses. I'd dithered around for several weeks trying to do it, but couldn't settle down to it. Travel plans, then travelling contingencies: new people, places, foods and eating times, disrupted sleep patterns. I was determined to do it last night.

Arriving at the Holy Sepulchre I realized the church is too dark to read in, in most places. And the hundreds of people milling around--some singing "How Great Thou Art" nearby, others reciting the Rosary as fast as they could. Another group praying the Lord's prayer fervently (and loudly). I needed a quieter, brighter place.

I found a place downstairs that felt tucked away. At least I could see the page of my prayer book. A lull descended and I started to pray. Then a red glow and a click. I looked up and saw a boy, maybe 13 years old leaning forward like you do when photographing birds or wild animals and you don't want to disturb them.

Stalking the wild penitent.

What did he see? A "monk" praying in the Holy Sepulchre. I'll be part of his photographic record.

Me? I was feeling displaced, disoriented, and yet I also realized I was where I needed to be. There is no such thing as "perfect conditions" only conditions I accept and say "yes" to, where God is.

I smiled and he snapped two more photos and tiptoed off. "How shall a young man cleanse his way?" the psalmist asks. "By keeping to your words..."

Same goes for middle aged men.

Sitting with my thoughts, memories, feelings I could feel a shift. Anxiety and fear and frustration giving way to acceptance, resolve, hope and gratitude in the holiness of that ancient church.

After completing my devotional psalm reading (it took half an hour) I started to explore the church and watch the people with entirely different eyes. I'd completed my walk into the the labyrinth, the first part of the walk of "letting go."

ENTERING THE CENTER OF THE LABYRINTH

Uncharacteristically I entered a queue to go into the tomb place. Russians ahaead of me, Filipinos beind, Africans sitting on some steps nearby. Normally I hate standing on lines. But it is part of the experience on pilgrimage. Even at home on the labyrinth people sometimes end up waiting on the inner curves for room at the center, pensive faces lit by flickering tiki torches. In Jerusalem, light from innumerable hanging lamps shone on our faces. The lamps seemed like the chandeliers in Harry Potter that hang from nothing (it was that dark). I finally doubled over and scrambled over a high threshold--all worn at the places where people have knelt on it for well over a thousand years, I think--into an antechamber where two long bearded Orthodox priests were monitoring people going in and out. One finally roused a specially pious group, clearing the way for me and some Filipino ladies to crawl (literally) into the tomb.

Ground Zero, so too speak. My mind blanked. What could I say or do to approximate the big bubbling feeling inside of me? Hanging over the tomb was a sign "Christos Anestis" Christ is Risen. Indeed, yes: come all this way and find the tomb is empty. All the fears and anxieties empty too: Alleluia!

THE WALK OUT OF THE LABYRINTH

We stumbled out of the tomb. I left the church in love with all the people around me, enjoying their ways of being in a holy place. This time I walked home without getting lost. "Jingle Bells" was playing in the Christian Quarter shops. I could hear a muzzein singing out the call to prayer. Church bells clanged everywhere.

Restored, forgiven, sent out.

At the friary of St. Salvatore we celebrated All Franciscan Saints: incense at vespers, cake and ice cream after dinner.

Occupy Sandy Concert

Real Estate. Vampire Weekend. Walkman. Dirty projectors. All names of amazing bands I heard for the first time yesterday.

Yes, I know. Some people say I live in some detached la-la land. But I think its generational, as I asked some folks at church today and they'd never heard of them either.

But we should hear about them. Vampire Weekend, for instance has a number one hit song! Fortunately there is nothing to do with vampires that I could tell. The music was soulful, witty and connected in a nice way. And the band members are all really nice men. I was sitting in the section reserved for band members when they weren't playing and exchanged smiles and thumbs up with them.

It has been a long time since I was 22 years old...

Yesterday (Saturday afternoon) Br. Eric and I went to this great concert that was staged to raise money and awareness for the victims of Hurricane Sandy. It was Br. Max's idea, and he got his brother, who works for a record label (not sure which one), to help. They put tickets up for sale Wednesday afternoon, and within two hours the concert was sold out! They raised $18,000!

Max functioned as a kind of friendly presence, popping up between acts telling the story about Occupy Sandy, and the needs of 1000's of people (still!) without power, water, food, heat in the city. He also celebrated the community of people who came together in the historic Church of St. Ann and the Holy Trinity in Brooklyn. It was a heart warming experience to see so many young people who obviously cared about the cause, were delighted by the music and were willing to spend a brilliantly sunny afternoon sitting on lumpy pew cushions.

I learned other things about Occupy Sandy. Some brilliant young women set up a wedding registry account on-line so that people could see what the needs were and send a gift directly. Refrigerators, stoves, clothing, dishes--you name it. I don't think I'd have ever thought of a wedding registry. The great thing is that the warehouse is filling up.

Google Sandy, check it out. Help if you can.

Pray for the people who still suffer.

And pray for the peace of Jerusalem. I'm supposed to be going there next Saturday.

Visit to Istanbul

One of the highlights of my recent visit to Istanbul was meeting the Ecumenical Patriarch, Bartolomeo. Here he is giving out small crosses and a pamphlet about icons to the group of Franciscan Brothers and Sisters who attended the On-Going Formation Course in Istanbul October 14--30. We pray for the Ecumenical Patriarch every day at our friaries.

In addition to visiting the ecumenical Patriarch and talking with different lecturers about ecumenism and inter-religious dialogue, we got to visit the teeming, beautiful bazaars in Istanbul. The crowds, food, and eager salesmen were quite a trip. They tried to sell me carpets, saying "Only $1,500 US!" At first I laughed and shrugged them off, but one fellow pursued me, so I finally took him aside and said: "Look, I am a monk (forget trying to explain friar), I have no money. I am just here to see and enjoy your beautiful country and I am so happy to be able to visit this bazaar." He brightened at that and said: "You must come visit my father!" He dragged me into a shop, my heart sinking. "A Christian holy man!" he told the bearded old man. They crowed around, shaking my hand. "Many blessings!" they said.

Another highlight was a trip to what was once Ephesus, and here we are visiting the home of the blessed Virgin Mary. Reportedly St. John brought her here after the Ascension. We celebrated Holy Eucharist. It is a beautiful place.

My part in the program was to give a paper talking about the ecumenical and interfaith work of the Society of St. Francis. I was the only Anglican at the conference, so my presence and our conversation was "practice" with ecumenical dialogue. The thing we discovered is that our denominational differences were nowhere as significant as the Franciscan familial bonding and the transcending reality of a shared Franciscan spirituality. Three brothers heading off after the time in Istanbul to South Sudan to establish a new friary there, said to me: "Come visit! We must work together in Sudan!" What a lovely thought.