Francis

Hello!

No more than the last time I put a few words here, I am not sure what to say or even how to say what I might want to say.

These are strange times and have brought all of us to a place called “fear” and rooms called “doubt”, “frustration”, “uncertainty” but also rooms called “family”, “friendship”, “faith”, “kindness”, “hope” and “love”.

I am watching Pope Francis’ blessing last night as I type these words.  Amazing to see him walk St Peter’s Square alone – no Swiss Guards or entourage – just a man walking in the belief that he can make a difference and should speak to his people and call God’s blessing on the world.  If ever there was a clear message of humility, it is found in his laboured steps as he moves to the chair, only accompanied for the last few steps by his assistant, dressed in black.  Black and White ….

We’d take black and white now – just simplicity of life and certainty around our future.  We don’t need technicolour or fireworks.

I wonder what he thought as he walked the square alone? That same square that was thronged to its limits and beyond the evening he stood on the balcony and said “good evening”, asked people to bless him and then sent them home to their tea.  There was something special about him that evening and that same something is seen on his face now and heard in his words (with translation of course!)

He took the theme of Jesus falling asleep in the boat while his companions battled a heavy sea.  He said that not alone was he asleep but he was asleep in the part of the boat that would most likely sink first.  “Do you not care”, they asked him “that we are going down?”  He rebuked their lack of faith and then he rebuked the wind.  The storm died down.

There are times when we might well feel the Lord is asleep at this time in our world’s storm but maybe we need to recognise that he lies in the part of the boat that is most likely to sink first.  He is among the doctors and nurses caring for the sick.  He is with the families longing for better news about a loved one and is especially with those facing the storm head on, having received a positive diagnosis.  Positive? Isn’t it an awful use of a word that should mean the best of us and best for us?  We strive to be positive when that very word brings fear to those receiving a diagnosis aligned to the word.

Did Pope Francis feel helpless as he spoke to the world and blessed us all?  Did he question the very God that he called upon for that blessing?  I doubt it.  His faith is rooted in a lifetime of wanting to know God in his life.  He is part of a generation of faith, that has seen its share of hard times and yet remained rooted in love for God.

I saw it yesterday, as an elderly woman walked into the parish church here and sanitized her hands rather than dip a finger in a Holy Water Font, no longer holding water.  She adapted to that and entered the Church as if she had blessed herself with Lourdes Holy Water.  I could see how important it was for her to walk in there.  I went to her and offered her Holy Communion, given she was alone in the church.  It meant everything to her.  It is everything to her.  Even as I held the Host before her, I knew she most likely had deeper faith and more trust than I.  Her “Amen” reassured me about the importance of my own role at this time.  A role that is very much re-scripted but one that matters.

Pope Francis has many like-minded people in the world, many who can still turn to God, even if he seems to be asleep.  “Lord, save us”, they cry.  He will!

The waters will become calm again.  When? We cannot be certain but there is a calmness ahead and we will work towards it and pray for it.  In the meantime, we will do all in our power to steady the beleaguered boat.  This involves a lot of effort on our parts and, in the short term, we pray for the strength and determination to make those efforts.

As Francis walked alone, we may well feel the pain of that aloneness as we are isolated from family and friends, from the usual day to day living of our lives, from choices we could easily make a few short weeks ago.  But he was not alone.  Francis walked with and to God.  He walked with and for you and I.  He walked for the vulnerable and, even his faltering step, gave a message of what is possible.

In recent days, I have had a temporary “webcam” service installed to our church.  I am glad of it and hope that it might help me connect with people and help in that connection we need at the moment with God.  I am thankful for technology and the ability to harness it for the good.

I am sure there will be the occasional breakdown and loss of signal but I am sure too, that even if the screen says “no signal”, I will be there, celebrating Mass or leading some form of prayer at the arranged hour.  Maybe that’s it, even if our world might think that God is not there, that the signal is broken, He remains behind the broken signal, the slow broadband connection and is not asleep. He keeps His word.

We are a day closer now to a better day.

God bless you all.  Let us pray for each other.

Vincent

I split the screen in two so that I could write these while watching Pope Francis.  Before I opened the second page, a photo of Alpha on my desktop seemed to be looking at Francis.  I liked it!

I’m reminded of a great story of a priest, who always travelled with his dog in the car, visiting a school one day.  A young boy mentioned the dog to the priest and the priest asked him: “Did Jesus have a dog?”  The boy’s response was inspired: “No Father, because if he had it would have been with him on Calvary”.

Let us be loyal to each other – now and always.