Friday 23 April 2010

ANZAC DAY - LEST WE FORGET

On ANZAC DAY 1986 the Vietnam veterans took part in ANZAC Day in large numbers for the very first time. As an officer in the Salvation Army I was tasked with leading them on that march down the streets of Brisbane. As we formed up the emotion was palpable for these not so old returned soldiers. Unlike their predecessors from other wars they received no warm welcome home, they knew about the protests against the Vietnam war and were devastated by the lack of support. When they came home people avoided them.

Battered minds and bodies stood tall and marched with purpose and assurance, yet I knew inside each one was a 19 year old boy who had experienced the deep sense of loss, not just of mates killed in war, but the loss of a sense of belonging to a country who was proud of him. Yes they might be cheering this day, but they didn’t when it counted.

After the march and we stood around chatting I asked one digger what it felt like and his reply has chilled me ever since, “Good mate, but too bloody late!’

And it's not just Vietnam Vets who are affected by the war they fought. I have spent a lot of time with sailors and soldiers who have participated in recent theatres of war and those who simply have seen tragic events in so called peace times. The effects of the experiences stay with them long after the battle or the event.

As we get ready for ANZAC Day let us remember clearly who and what we are commemorating. We are commemorating the ordinary young men and women trying to stay alive in horrendous conditions as a result of others decisions. We are commemorating the heroic acts that they participated in, and still do. We do not commemorate war and the horror embedded within it.

They deserve to be honoured by our memory and our efforts to avoid war at all costs. That is now our duty.

PS
At the school ANZAC Day service the legend of ANZAC was evident. A group of students who are also Army and Air Force Cadets participated. They had no CO to marshall them, so one young man took on the role. He took the cadets, some of whom had only be in uniform since the end of last term, and turned them into a competent and confident troop. The slow march was a credit to them. It was something special in itself. The ANZAC Spirit lives on.

Friday 16 April 2010

What It Means To Be A Priest Part 2

Yesterday we had a phone call from some friends to join them for lunch at the Chinderah Tavern. Being school holidays meant that I had the freedom and could escape school for a couple of hours, so I went. My wife went from home and I joined them there.

I roared in on the Harley in my checked clergy shirt, red cross and red Squires boots. As I stepped onto the verandah my friend announced me with 'Hello Father Glenn!" Everybody on the verandah turned to have a look. I smiled and ordered a beer and sat down to order lunch.

A little later I went to wash my hands and as I walked through the bar I heard one old barfly say to another, "That's the bloke with red boots", with a nod in my direction. His mate replied, "Yeh, read about him in the paper."

While we were eating lunch, the lady at the next table came over and asked which church I belonged to. I said, "Anglican". She said, "Catholic", and went on to talk about how hard it is to be a Catholic in an area (she was a visitor) where just that day a long running child abuse case surfaced again. She wondered out loud how to handle the criticism. I made some suggestions which seemed to help her, she put her hand on my shoulder and thanked me.

Later my wife noted that during that conversation there was little or no sound on the verandah, everybody was watching and listening to our exchange. It was a 'woman at the well' experience and one that keeps occurring for me.

Being a priest in the model of Christ, our high priest, is to be available in the ordinary stuff of life to the ordinary stuff in others lives. It is putting flesh and breath in to the Sacraments and being open to the real presence of Christ in every aspect of being fully human, fully alive.

A priest is a symbol in a secular world. While people may no longer practice institutional religion as they once did, they are still looking for someone, something which allows them to encounter the spiritual in their everyday. A priest does that whether in church, with those of their flock or with those in the parish area to which they are appointed.

it is important to remember that a priest is not appointed to a church but to a parish area. And while parish areas may now be deemed to be arbitrary, it is the symbolism of that appointment that matters most. A priest is appointed to all people in a geographical area and his priestly role, bringing alive the love of God sacramentally is an all day, everyday encounter with people, wherever they are to be found.

Wednesday 14 April 2010

What Does It Mean To Be A Priest?

"Life consists in learning to live on one’s own, spontaneous, freewheeling: to do this one must recognize what is one’s own—be familiar and at home with oneself. This means basically learning who one is, and learning what one has to offer to the contemporary world, and then learning how to make that offering valid." Thomas Merton from "Living and Loving"

Some one asked what it meant for me to be a priest and how did I validate that experience in my daily life? Well, the words of Merton encapsulate it for me, but let me tell you what happened to me today to be it in perspective.

I had decided that my haircut no longer fitted my military expectations so I went to the barbers. Unfortunately my normal barber was busy, and as I only had limited time I couldn't wait, so I went in search of another barber.

Around the corner I found one and took a seat. The young man was cutting the hair of an elderly man with dementia and was doing so with great care and love. I noticed the young man had an unconventional hair cut and I wondered about who he was and what he was thinking.

It soon came my turn and I plopped down into the chair. He looked me up and down (red checked clergy shirt and red Squires boots)and commented: "You must raise some eyebrows with the way your dressed for a priest?' I laughed and said "Sometimes". The conversation continued and I discovered he was ex-Army so I shared about my role with Navy.

What started out as general conversation moved quickly into listening deeply as this young man talked about his experiences, how he lost friends in aircraft accidents on flights he was scheduled to go on but was pulled from at the last minute, the trauma he experienced and how he copes with the sleepless nights. 'I sleep with one eye open", he said. He also said, "I am working through it all, and working on forgiving and forgetting."

Having heard what he said, I commented that experiences like that can be worked through but they will never be forgotten. The conversation went on as I got my $10 haircut.

As I left I shook his hand and looked deeply into his eyes and we both said 'God bless you' at exactly the same time.

God took a freewheeling moment in my life and my availability allowed a special God encounter to occur for both of us. Priestly stuff happens when you are most yourself, present to the moment, fully alive as a human being and open to the movement of the Spirit. Being fully alive as a human being and as a priest means that all ordinary moments are priestly moments.

There are no ordinary moments. All moments are invested with the divine and as a priest I live for those ordinary moments.

Thursday 8 April 2010

Silence

"In silence we face and admit the gap between the depth of our being, which we consistently ignore, and the surface which is untrue to our own reality. We recognize the need to be at home with ourselves in order that we may go out to meet others, not just with a mask of affability, but with real commitment and authentic love.

That is the reason for choosing silence."

Merton, Thomas. Love & Living. Naomi Burton Stone and Br. Patrick Hart, Editors. New York: Harcourt. 1979, p. 41.

Wednesday 7 April 2010

The Eyes Have It!

Had a revelation last night, about 1am. Seems normal. The idea was very simple and came in the words, "we only hear the voice over, we really see the face."

When was the last time you really, and I mean really, looked at the face in the mirror, whenever you may do that. And when you did so, did you look deeply into the eyes of the person your saw there? Honestly!

If you were asked to draw your face, describe its features, comment on the shade of your eyes etc., could you do it?

You see I have this theory that the person we know the less is ourselves because we actually pay less time to who we really are than we do to the stuff we do everyday. As a result we are less able to engage others honestly because we have little idea about ourselves.

We hear the voice over, the noise of who project to the world, yet we do not see the face we hide behind. If the eyes are indeed the window of the soul, and I believe they are, then we need to pay attention to the windows of our own soul before looking into the eyes of others.

Perhaps we avoid doing so because we fear we won't like what we see, but the truth is we can only live in the world if we are in tune with our inner world. It is this inner world where we engage the transcendent Lord of Life, find that the very God who contains us is contained within, that everything we need to be who we were created to be is, and has always been, within us if only we could see it. Or perhaps if only we took the time to look and cease from our searching and simply relax in solitude and silence.

As the old Zen saying says (and Psalm 42:10) "Be still, be very very still, and above all else do not wobble." Turn your eyes inward and you will discover the questions of life hand in hand with their answers and the whole world will slip into harmony with you, or should I say, you will be in harmony with creation for you will, once again, be one with it.

Thursday 1 April 2010

Through The Eyes of a Child

Yesterday we held our Easter story chapel service and it was incredible. 150 year 5 & 6 students took part in the presentation of the Easter story from Palm Sunday to Good Friday, and the result was spellbinding.

It had everything from a female Judas in one scene to a female Jesus in another. Each class prepared a section of the Easter story and presented it in their own style. All were connected by an excellent narrator and, as a result, became an effective whole. Each scene comprised a new group of actors who picked up where the last scene finished and continued the story.

It climaxed with a subtle but very moving crucifixion scene. And there was hardly a dry eye in the place, which was amazing since the audience manly comprised year 9 -12 students. Parents left the room afterwards moved by the 45 minute production.

It had everything good education should have: imagination, wonder, mystery and surprise. it captured people's attention right where they were. It was soul food, full of enchantment and holy innocence and made an incredible impact on all, including myself.

It was an example of how the student teaches the teacher while the teacher thinks they are teaching the student. It was about how our children are much more than the familiar kids we live and work with and contain a depth and insight we often fail to see. Education, as life, is a partnership and this was one of those moments when we learnt from them.

It was the first such passion play. It won't be the last.

A wonderful Easter surprise!