Dear Friends,
Another posting on this blog site after only three days??!! Anyway, much is happening and I will try to describe some of it.
Today the last day of April happens to be the feast day of Mary, Our Lady, Mother of Africa. Wow, I am impressed! There is, I am told, a large church or basilica in Algiers, the capital city of Algeria, that honors her under this title. It overlooks the bay in the port of that city, which is on the Mediterranean Sea. What amazes me is that many Muslim women come to that church to pray and to ask her to pray for their families, etc. Perhaps you know that Mary is mentioned four times in the Quran. Muslims honor Jesus as a great prophet and also his mother. Anyway, this morning we had about 15 or 16 crammed into our little chapel for our usual 7 AM mass. There were Jesuits and nuns who work here at the retreat center in attendance, also some young Jesuit priests engaged in the six-month program called tertianship (3rd phase of formation for Jesuits) plus their director. I quickly looked around the room to notice on this feast day the nationalities of those present: an 88 year old Indian leading the mass, then three other Indian priests who are full time staff members here at the retreat center, one Tanzanian, numerous Kenyans, one from the Congo, one from Rwanda, two from Ireland, and then myself, the one American. Only God could bring this off!
Then I was very taken by the framed picture high on the wall behind the priest leading the mass. It is a striking depiction of the crucifixion of Jesus, a black, African Jesus nailed dead to the cross. Then a black Madonna in beautiful blue wrapping her arms around the legs of her son and with her head bowed down. Behind her is an African woman, Mary the sister of Jesus' mother. She wears a bubushka on her head, typical of many women in this culture. In front of the cross and genuflecting is another African woman with head covered by a bubushka. It is obviously Mary Magdalene. Off to the left and looking up at the dead Christ with quiet awe is a handsome, young, tall African man, obviously John the Apostle, the Beloved disciple of Jesus. The priest who led the mass read a short saying about all the religious orders of priests and nuns who had come to Africa since 1869, a very impressive missionary outreach, and how the tradition of Mary, Mother of Africa, began with the White Fathers and Sisters, Europeans who came to begin the church in new parts of this continent. What he read referred to Africa as "the forgotten continent." I felt just short of overwhelmed to be there at that moment and to get in touch with the truth that this part of the world is for so many in the world not very significant or interesting; it is seen as strange, a place to be feared and yes, looked down on as "primitive.". The picture said to me something of what is going on here, the ongoing crucifixion of Christ's Body, yet some remarkable instances of Christ being raised up. I get to hear some of the stories of this resurrection happening in the retreatants I get to guide. (The invisible is more real than the visible!!) As I have said before, I get to hear conversations that are profound in terms of what God does in these people. This is the basis of endless hope that the Power that is moving these good people will prevail in the midst of situations that can discourage those who are not that connected to Christ. In looking at the picture of the crucifixion I was taken in my thoughts to the providence of God in bringing all of us together in that chapel this morning--from Africa and many other parts of the world. Why us? Why US?? Only God really knows. What a privilege for me to be a small part of such a powerful thing God is doing on this beautiful, poverty ridden and pain-filled continent of very impressive, resilient, strong people.
Then yesterday it was my turn to lead the 5:15 PM mass for the retreatants. It was the feast day of a remarkable 14th century woman, Catherine of Siena, Italy. (1447-1380 AD) Yes, she lived only 33 years, as long as Jesus lived. (A belated happy name-feast to all of you in the Manresa family with the name of Catherine, Kathleen, Kathy, or Kate, etc What a privilege to have that name for your own!) For me there was a happy coincidence of her feast day landing on the same day the Gospel reading was from John, chapter 3, verses 7-15. In the last line or two of that reading Jesus says, "Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in Him may have eternal life." Jesus has been talking with Nicodemus, the Pharisee, and was explaining that he (and all of us) need to be reborn in the Spirit; we need to be opened up to the inner world of God, to the invisible, to the depths of our own spiritual capacities, to come alive and see what we have been blind to, to hear God speaking in the midst of the din of our overly busy world that won't permit itself to be quiet and open our souls to what we have been thirsting for, to the gifts of God we are made for. I made the point that Jesus in his reference to His being lifted up is telling us how to allow this miracle of grace to happen in us: to look upon the One who has been lifted up for us, Jesus crucified, nailed and pierced for each of us. We are encouraged to gaze at Him, to really look at Him in that situation, to stay looking at Him for quite some time, and when we are ready to enter into His side with all that is going on in our life. (Like St. Thomas the Apostle did in last Sunday's Gospel reading.) And this is where I saw the connection with Catherine of Siena. She says that God the Father had said to her in the depths of her prayer: "I have allowed His side to be pierced in order to reveal the secret of His Heart, which I have made a hidden refuge where you are permitted to see and to taste the ineffable love which I have for you." Oh my!!
I added that the great men and women teachers of prayer and remarkable Christians have found the wellspring of their spiritual growth in spending generous amounts of time gazing at Him crucified and hanging there for them, then in entering into His depths and bringing their whole self, burdens, hopes, joys and all, into His Heart. The Passion of Christ is the privileged place for great spiritual growth. We truly are reborn in the Spirit when we are faithful to this kind of prayer, making time with Jesus and the father the priority of our day. Then I quoted a line from Catherine, something Mary McKeon drew to my attention, about what happens to us when we make Him the center of our attention: St. Catherine says, "If you are what you should be, you will set the whole world on fire. Let the truth (of His deep love for you) be your delight, and then proclaim it . . ." (in all the ways you live out your day, in the way you are with people and with your own self.)
I am off to lunch. Have a blessed May and some warm days. Here it is sunny everyday, cool nights, mid 80s by afternoon, low humidity, clean air, flowers and pollen everywhere (and sniffles for me!) I will see you all at the daily Eucharist. Thanks for your friendship over the years.
Bernie Owens
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Dear Friends,
Good afternoon on this Sunday after Easter. It is a beautiful day here, skies almost clear, slight breeze, perhaps low 80s in the sun. And flowers everywhere.
I trust you have heard of the latest bombing in downtown Nairobi as the police have gotten increasingly tough with people who do not have documents (like me!) or have bribed their way past border guards to enter the country and do damage. Some local imams are urging other imams to tone down the anti-government rhetoric, to calm down the youth, and to put the best face on Islam as a peaceful religion. We shall see whether this works!! Last Tuesday evening tow policemen stopped two suspicious looking men driving a car on the wrong side of the road. They took over the car with the two men in the back. They drove it to a police station and just as they arrived the car was blew up thanks to a large bomb. All four were killed--pieces of human flesh and blood everywhere!
Public life has become quieter at the ocean port of Mombasa (300 miles from here) and in other places of the nation, except in the far north where there is a drought, extensive famine, and cattle rustling. People there in the far north walk around with AK47s on their shoulder or back (It is like on the US frontier 100-140 years ago when residents walked around with pistols and rifles, ready to defend their cattle and homes. Justice was often taken care of by the locals, similar to the way it is handled here often times.) So too in the north of here there are rather frequent shoot-outs by farmers and rustlers, elephant and rhino tusk poachers and rangers as well. (Formerly it was with spears, now it is with AK 47s!) In a number of other ways this nation seems to be where the US was in the 1920s and 30s: not many paved roads, very few sidewalks, very rare is there a paved surface in front of stores or public areas. Yet in the city of Nairobi things are very much of a first-World style, with very modern malls, grocery stores, and some buildings that go up 30 stories. This is the financial capitol of Eastern Africa with many headquarters of international companies mostly near the airport. Even General Motors has an assembly factory here. Nairobi has around 4 million people in a nation of 44 million. The birth-rate is high, but so too the death rate.
Easter here was really special. I had the privilege of leading what is my favorite liturgy of the whole year: the Easter Vigil service. About 100 people participated. Drums that had been silent all of Lent were heard again. How special! I included in the homily the famous sermon of the 5th century Greek bishop, John Chrysostom. I like that sermon so much that I have included it in the last chapter of my forthcoming book.
The Easter meal was at midday so that the cooks could have the better part of the afternoon and all the evening with their families, all of whom live here on the compound. We had turkey and cranberries, small shrimp with rice colored in saffron (called paiyea--spelling?) and Ethiopian pork (which I stay away from; I got terrible food poisoning on some Ethiopian meat-dish about two months ago!). We were 35 people in all, many of whom were guests joining us.Cake and ice creme to conclude. The meal was preceded by a social with some Johnnie Walker Black to sip.
Since our rector was away till Tuesday dinner time, I and two others had a post dinner celebration of his return with some peanuts, other snacks, and Glenfiddich 18 single malt scotch. The scotch, a gift to me from a recent visitor, is really smooth!! I had been looking at it all Lent. To break the seal of the bottle that evening was fun.
Earlier today I watched on our wide-screen TV the last third of the mass from Rome celebrating the canonization ceremony for Pope John and Pope John Paul II. It was very special to see it live. (We are one hour ahead of Rome's time.) I found it even more special knowing that I will be leading a pilgrimage from Detroit to Rome and other places in Italy a little over a year from now (June 1-15, 2015).
Some of my most satisfying moments here come when listening to how the retreatants I am privileged to guide each day for eight days are moved by God to such marvelous new places, awarenesses and personal freedoms, as they enter into the silence and reflect on certain Scripture passages or whose manner of prayer is simply being quiet with God--not thinking, not speaking, just choosing to be quiet with God (eyes closed) for 30-45 minutes four times a day.. Some live challenging lives, some in the bush, some in the wild north with the people who carry AK 47s, most in villages but some out in the bush where life is tough and skimpy in resources. The common factor in all of these retreats is the reality of Jesus and the Father. This is what these retreatants experience and in the great variety of ways that happens they find much renewal of their spirit, while getting good physical rest and the luxury of having others cook and serve the food they eat.
On May 15-17 I am leading a two and a half day workshop for all of the faculty of the CLC sponsored, Jesuit supported school near the Nairobi slum called Kibera. The school is named St. Aloysius Gonzaga High School (you can google it and catch an 'eye-full' of this great success story). I will be getting them to work in small and large groups (25 people in all) on elements of Ignatian spiritual values as well as brainstorming ways in which they can improve their teaching methods and adopt more consciously the method that is distinctive in Jesuit-Ignatian schools: with an emphasis on interactive learning, social context of the subject matter, and creative action/application of what they have learned in order to help promote values of the Kingdom of God wherever they will live and serve. I really look forward to this opportunity to get to know these people and help lead them to make the school and its male and female students even better--almost all are orphans, with both of their parents having died of AIDS. (You should see Kibera where these kids live!! You can google this also. They live in shacks whose inner space is about 15' by 15', with two beds, a TV and maybe a throw-rug on its floor. Right outside are open sewers and the smell that goes with it. It was a blessing for me to meet and talk with people who live there, to spend the better part of an afternoon with them in that setting.)
I have to go. I am off to the gym where I can get some exercise on a stationery bike and some weights for upper body exercise. On Friday one other American and I are going up into the hills some 30 minutes from here by car--8,000' above sea level (2,000' higher than here) and hike on the ridge of the mountains that we can look at from here at the retreat house. There are seven peaks that constitute the whole hike, with nothing but green: bushes and trees up there, some cattle and goat herders. I was there once before; it can get really windy. I will cover myself with sun-screen! Kenya Electric has put on the ridge some windmills, with three blades whirling and generating electricity. These windmills are just huge!! Eventually 24 will be established up there. Right now there are only about 6 operating. One can see them from our retreat house lawn chairs. So I am curious and want to walk up in that area. Have a great week. We start looking toward Pentecost tomorrow, beginning with the conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus who comes to Him in the night to inquire. Come, Holy Spirit! Come to us all and to our world (especially South Sudan and Syria) that is so torn by war!
Bernie Owens
Good afternoon on this Sunday after Easter. It is a beautiful day here, skies almost clear, slight breeze, perhaps low 80s in the sun. And flowers everywhere.
I trust you have heard of the latest bombing in downtown Nairobi as the police have gotten increasingly tough with people who do not have documents (like me!) or have bribed their way past border guards to enter the country and do damage. Some local imams are urging other imams to tone down the anti-government rhetoric, to calm down the youth, and to put the best face on Islam as a peaceful religion. We shall see whether this works!! Last Tuesday evening tow policemen stopped two suspicious looking men driving a car on the wrong side of the road. They took over the car with the two men in the back. They drove it to a police station and just as they arrived the car was blew up thanks to a large bomb. All four were killed--pieces of human flesh and blood everywhere!
Public life has become quieter at the ocean port of Mombasa (300 miles from here) and in other places of the nation, except in the far north where there is a drought, extensive famine, and cattle rustling. People there in the far north walk around with AK47s on their shoulder or back (It is like on the US frontier 100-140 years ago when residents walked around with pistols and rifles, ready to defend their cattle and homes. Justice was often taken care of by the locals, similar to the way it is handled here often times.) So too in the north of here there are rather frequent shoot-outs by farmers and rustlers, elephant and rhino tusk poachers and rangers as well. (Formerly it was with spears, now it is with AK 47s!) In a number of other ways this nation seems to be where the US was in the 1920s and 30s: not many paved roads, very few sidewalks, very rare is there a paved surface in front of stores or public areas. Yet in the city of Nairobi things are very much of a first-World style, with very modern malls, grocery stores, and some buildings that go up 30 stories. This is the financial capitol of Eastern Africa with many headquarters of international companies mostly near the airport. Even General Motors has an assembly factory here. Nairobi has around 4 million people in a nation of 44 million. The birth-rate is high, but so too the death rate.
Easter here was really special. I had the privilege of leading what is my favorite liturgy of the whole year: the Easter Vigil service. About 100 people participated. Drums that had been silent all of Lent were heard again. How special! I included in the homily the famous sermon of the 5th century Greek bishop, John Chrysostom. I like that sermon so much that I have included it in the last chapter of my forthcoming book.
The Easter meal was at midday so that the cooks could have the better part of the afternoon and all the evening with their families, all of whom live here on the compound. We had turkey and cranberries, small shrimp with rice colored in saffron (called paiyea--spelling?) and Ethiopian pork (which I stay away from; I got terrible food poisoning on some Ethiopian meat-dish about two months ago!). We were 35 people in all, many of whom were guests joining us.Cake and ice creme to conclude. The meal was preceded by a social with some Johnnie Walker Black to sip.
Since our rector was away till Tuesday dinner time, I and two others had a post dinner celebration of his return with some peanuts, other snacks, and Glenfiddich 18 single malt scotch. The scotch, a gift to me from a recent visitor, is really smooth!! I had been looking at it all Lent. To break the seal of the bottle that evening was fun.
Earlier today I watched on our wide-screen TV the last third of the mass from Rome celebrating the canonization ceremony for Pope John and Pope John Paul II. It was very special to see it live. (We are one hour ahead of Rome's time.) I found it even more special knowing that I will be leading a pilgrimage from Detroit to Rome and other places in Italy a little over a year from now (June 1-15, 2015).
Some of my most satisfying moments here come when listening to how the retreatants I am privileged to guide each day for eight days are moved by God to such marvelous new places, awarenesses and personal freedoms, as they enter into the silence and reflect on certain Scripture passages or whose manner of prayer is simply being quiet with God--not thinking, not speaking, just choosing to be quiet with God (eyes closed) for 30-45 minutes four times a day.. Some live challenging lives, some in the bush, some in the wild north with the people who carry AK 47s, most in villages but some out in the bush where life is tough and skimpy in resources. The common factor in all of these retreats is the reality of Jesus and the Father. This is what these retreatants experience and in the great variety of ways that happens they find much renewal of their spirit, while getting good physical rest and the luxury of having others cook and serve the food they eat.
On May 15-17 I am leading a two and a half day workshop for all of the faculty of the CLC sponsored, Jesuit supported school near the Nairobi slum called Kibera. The school is named St. Aloysius Gonzaga High School (you can google it and catch an 'eye-full' of this great success story). I will be getting them to work in small and large groups (25 people in all) on elements of Ignatian spiritual values as well as brainstorming ways in which they can improve their teaching methods and adopt more consciously the method that is distinctive in Jesuit-Ignatian schools: with an emphasis on interactive learning, social context of the subject matter, and creative action/application of what they have learned in order to help promote values of the Kingdom of God wherever they will live and serve. I really look forward to this opportunity to get to know these people and help lead them to make the school and its male and female students even better--almost all are orphans, with both of their parents having died of AIDS. (You should see Kibera where these kids live!! You can google this also. They live in shacks whose inner space is about 15' by 15', with two beds, a TV and maybe a throw-rug on its floor. Right outside are open sewers and the smell that goes with it. It was a blessing for me to meet and talk with people who live there, to spend the better part of an afternoon with them in that setting.)
I have to go. I am off to the gym where I can get some exercise on a stationery bike and some weights for upper body exercise. On Friday one other American and I are going up into the hills some 30 minutes from here by car--8,000' above sea level (2,000' higher than here) and hike on the ridge of the mountains that we can look at from here at the retreat house. There are seven peaks that constitute the whole hike, with nothing but green: bushes and trees up there, some cattle and goat herders. I was there once before; it can get really windy. I will cover myself with sun-screen! Kenya Electric has put on the ridge some windmills, with three blades whirling and generating electricity. These windmills are just huge!! Eventually 24 will be established up there. Right now there are only about 6 operating. One can see them from our retreat house lawn chairs. So I am curious and want to walk up in that area. Have a great week. We start looking toward Pentecost tomorrow, beginning with the conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus who comes to Him in the night to inquire. Come, Holy Spirit! Come to us all and to our world (especially South Sudan and Syria) that is so torn by war!
Bernie Owens
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Dear Friends,
I write here a postscript to the letter I wrote two days ago.
Today is Holy Thursday. It is the day the Lord Jesus gave us His all through what He did with the Passover meal from His own tradition as a Jew. He gave it a new and much deeper meaning than it had had--which was already a beautiful commemoration of God's rescuing the Israelites from a terrible state of slavery and hopelessness. I want to say a few words about His gesture.
Most of us truly admire anyone who gives their life for a loved one, for a child especially. We are greatly touched by such deeds and wonder whether we could ever do the same. Yet it seems that something deeper than our own means is given when the moment comes to choose to give one's all, to pour out all that you have, even your own life if necessary. Maybe we know of someone who has done such. We are blessed to know such people.
This evening we commemorate Jesus making that decision, choosing to give His best and all He had and is when giving us His body and blood. The word 'Body' for a Jew means "my whole self." 'Blood' for a Jew means "life." There is something about the circumstances surrounding the moment Jesus does this that should touch us deeply. In Luke 22, verse 15, He is quoted to say, "It is with desire that I have desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer." It is so Jewish to repeat a word as Jesus does in that sentence, the word 'desire' It is a rather strong way for indicating how deep is the feeling, how deeply He has looked forward to that moment. It indicates how much He had wanted to express to us something very, very deep inside Himself. What must we mean to Him for Him to say what He said and to do what He did, to give us what He gave us on that night? What a moment it is for anyone to come to that point in their life when they want to give everything they have and are to someone who means that much to them.
When we talk about the riches of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, it is this that we are seeing in Jesus' gesture--giving everything and leaving nothing unspoken or held back. It seems to me that a person is never more than their best self, their deepest self than in the moment when they give everything they are, especially when it is their life. And it strikes me that we do not really become who are meant to be until we make such a gift of our self. Until then, we are partial, incomplete and limited. Jesus is never more Jesus than in that moment when He gives us His Body and Blood. How profound, how deep are His longings to connect with us, to give Himself to us, for us to know what He knows and to love what He loves and in time for us to make the same gift of our own self, all that we are and have.
A blessed Easter to you. God bless!
Bernie Owens
I write here a postscript to the letter I wrote two days ago.
Today is Holy Thursday. It is the day the Lord Jesus gave us His all through what He did with the Passover meal from His own tradition as a Jew. He gave it a new and much deeper meaning than it had had--which was already a beautiful commemoration of God's rescuing the Israelites from a terrible state of slavery and hopelessness. I want to say a few words about His gesture.
Most of us truly admire anyone who gives their life for a loved one, for a child especially. We are greatly touched by such deeds and wonder whether we could ever do the same. Yet it seems that something deeper than our own means is given when the moment comes to choose to give one's all, to pour out all that you have, even your own life if necessary. Maybe we know of someone who has done such. We are blessed to know such people.
This evening we commemorate Jesus making that decision, choosing to give His best and all He had and is when giving us His body and blood. The word 'Body' for a Jew means "my whole self." 'Blood' for a Jew means "life." There is something about the circumstances surrounding the moment Jesus does this that should touch us deeply. In Luke 22, verse 15, He is quoted to say, "It is with desire that I have desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer." It is so Jewish to repeat a word as Jesus does in that sentence, the word 'desire' It is a rather strong way for indicating how deep is the feeling, how deeply He has looked forward to that moment. It indicates how much He had wanted to express to us something very, very deep inside Himself. What must we mean to Him for Him to say what He said and to do what He did, to give us what He gave us on that night? What a moment it is for anyone to come to that point in their life when they want to give everything they have and are to someone who means that much to them.
When we talk about the riches of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, it is this that we are seeing in Jesus' gesture--giving everything and leaving nothing unspoken or held back. It seems to me that a person is never more than their best self, their deepest self than in the moment when they give everything they are, especially when it is their life. And it strikes me that we do not really become who are meant to be until we make such a gift of our self. Until then, we are partial, incomplete and limited. Jesus is never more Jesus than in that moment when He gives us His Body and Blood. How profound, how deep are His longings to connect with us, to give Himself to us, for us to know what He knows and to love what He loves and in time for us to make the same gift of our own self, all that we are and have.
A blessed Easter to you. God bless!
Bernie Owens
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Dear Friends,
It is Tuesday afternoon here, 3 PM, the 15th of April. The sun shines brightly and April shower clouds loom nearby but no rain has fallen here so far. The temperature must be about the high 70s or low 80s, just perfect. I would prefer to write what I will be writing tomorrow, the 16th, but I have a big meeting to go to in the city tomorrow afternoon (all morning is given to the four retreatants I am with--what stories I am hearing!!) and will not have the time then to write.
Why is tomorrow so important to me? Because this April 16 marks three years to the day when the inspiration to come to East Africa was given to me. It was so obviously something God did to me; there isn't a shadow of a doubt about that! In the moment it happened I was so surprised and had the sense that it was of God, but it took me an overnight before I realized that truly this was of God and it had to be taken seriously. It began a revolution of unprecedented thoughts in me. I have to tell you how it happened. I tell the story because it makes God so real, so tangible, so surprising and more readily appreciated as truly kind and generous. I also tell the story because I am close to 8 months since I arrived here and it is the first anniversary of this watershed moment in my life . It is so much on my mind. On top of it all, this is Holy Week with our pondering a story of tragic love and victory over violence and death, a story that never gets old.
It was on the afternoon of Saturday, April 16, 2011 that I and a friend went to the Royal Oak Main movie theatre to see "Of Gods and Men." It was the day before Palm Sunday and four weeks to the day since I had led the funeral for my mother. I knew just enough about the movie's main theme to know that it was the kind of movie that would fit with my own efforts to stay in the spirit of Lent and especially get ready for Holy Week that was beginning at sundown that evening.
The movie concerns a group of French monks who had established a monastery in northern Algeria during the 1970s. It was located at the edge of a small Muslim village. They had come not to convert these people but rather witness to the presence of Christ to them. The movie opens with some scenes showing how well the monks were received in the village, of how the people had depended on them even for immediate medical care and some spontaneous "counseling" by one of the monks for a 13-14 year old girl who wanted to talk with one of the monks about her being forced into an arranged marriage. The dialogue between them is priceless! As the story of the film unfolds, you learn about a jihadist group coming into Algeria to challenge the established government and military and announcing that all foreigners had four weeks to leave the country or they would be killed. Soon you witness a bit of a scene in which 12 Croatian workers near the monastery and known by the monks had had their throats slit and left in the open for all to see. There is, then, much fear throughout the village and increased government-military presence. The movie then focuses in on the life of the monks and their reactions to this threat. You see then much debate among them as to whether they would stay in Algeria or leave. There are numerous scenes from a number of community deliberations on this question. You hear voices of fear and voices of calm, lots of reasons cited for leaving and some for staying. At the same time you witness some scenes of their praying in common the Liturgy of the Hours (morning prayer and vespers) and then praying the Eucharist as well. All of this is so done so very well. Most authentic!!
On Christmas day about a half dozen jihadists come unannounced to the monastery and the Prior of the community, Fr. Christian de Cherge, meets them at the front door. The head of the jihadists introduces himself and his group. Fr. Christian calmly states that he and the other monks do not side with either group, that they will not bear arms nor even strive to defend themselves, that it is the feast of the birth of the Savior, the Prince of Peace, and the monks welcome them in His name. It soon is revealed that one of the jihadists is wounded and needs medical care. The commander asks for medical aid and Fr. Christian welcomes him; the fighter is tended to, and the jihadists leave.
Months go by while the monks continue to debate/discern what are they are to do. In the film Fr. Christian is remarkable for how he stands in the midst of his fellow monks and holds the center, a place of peace and clarity of mind to help the monks listen to each other and finally come to a communal decision that is in keeping with how God calls them to be. They all decide to stay. For them it is the only authentic response in light of their vocations and what they had vowed. They would stay with the people and continue to witness to Christ despite the tension and how this left them quite vulnerable. They saw the people themselves as vulnerable. To leave would be to abandon them. It would especially be a failure to trust Christ and the Father. This became clear to them through their prayer and in all their discussing the two options.
One of the most moving scenes of the whole movie is a moment when they receive a visiting monk who brings with him some much appreciated French red wine for all of them to enjoy. This leads to a scene where they are all sitting around a table, drinking red wine and listening to a beautiful piece of music from Tchaikovsky played on a cassette tape recorder. It is clearly an allusion to the Last Supper and their enjoying the companionship in Christ that has held them together in what you know is one of their final moments. Like Christ they had set their hearts on a common choice, to stay, and this moment was their ratifying their choice. It was an agape moment, echoes of the meal Jesus had with His disciples.
During these months, from December of 1994 till January of 1996 the monks live in this situation until on January 21 they were suddenly visited by the jihadists. Two hid under beds and escaped while the other seven, including Christian, the community Prior, were kidnapped and taken away into the snowy mountains. Months passed without knowledge of their fate. The movie ends with a statement that they had all been executed.
Later, it was learned that the government had chased the jihadists to a barn and on May 21 from a helicopter unloaded a hail of bullets into the barn. In the process the monks were also killed since the jihadists were holding the monks with them. The monks were buried on June 4 after their corpses had been beheaded by the government to make it look like the jihadists had murdered them. Many of the Muslims in the village of the monastery grieved their deaths and attended the Christian funeral. Christian, some two years before his death, wrote a letter to his parents and siblings back in France and said that he thought it a good chance that he would die in the terrible conflict that had come upon Algeria. He was thanking God for having the opportunity, unworthy as he was, to lay down his life for a people and a land he had come to love. He said that he forgave ahead of time his assassin who he said he presumed was doing what he thought was right in killing him and looked forward to the day that the assassin and he would be in heaven together as brothers forever; he also said that he prayed to be able to see the Muslim people as God sees them, with the light of Christ (yes, the light of Christ!) shining from them.
Well, my friends, it was all I could do not to cry aloud during the movie. I wept and wept through most of the movie while saying so many times, "I want to love like these men loved. I want to give to God like these people did." I spent so much energy holding in my emotions. It would have been terribly embarrassing for me to cry out, even though there were not that many people in the movie house. I had a headache following the movie--no wonder!
What these men did as a group of brothers dedicated to God was to live through the same dilemma and agony that Jesus suffered through when He was in the Garden of Gethsemani, struggling over whether He would stay and be captured and crucified or leave before the soldiers came to arrest Him. For me a second title for the movie could have been--"Gethsemani Relived".
Then it was during my drive back to UD Mercy where I was living at the time (I was on sabbatical from Manresa) that the big surprise came. Alone with my thoughts and feelings regarding the film, I began to think "East Africa." This thought came gently and stayed with me while driving from Royal Oak down Woodward Ave and west on Six Mile to the university. All that time I am quite abstracted from the night lights along the streets and my hunger for a good dinner. Never before had I thought such thoughts. The novelty of it all caught my attention. I recalled that I no longer had to stay close to my mother in her dying state. She was now with God. I thought I didn't have to stay in the USA for anything, not even for my siblings nor for Manresa, but that I was free to consider this and was amazed by it all. Nothing came to me as an objection. I felt an amazing freedom and sense of being taken off my feet! I could hardly believe what was happening. I looked at myself as someone new, with possibilities that took away my breath. In the days that followed through Holy Week and the Easter season I continued to feel the peace and sense of being taken up by God and shown a new life that was being offered, not commanded, but invited to choose. Never did I feel compelled or ordered. It always had the feel of a respectful invitation that I was free to decline. But really, how could I decline,especially in light of who was offering it! And I knew without a doubt from whom this offer was coming. How could I decline? He means too much to me, too much to turn Him down. It later dawned on me that I could never preach the same nor teach some of my favorite themes if I were to decline this offer, to withdraw and cite my age or some other excuse. With the invitation came the security of knowing that everything I would need to act on this would be given, that I had nothing to fear or worry about. Somehow all would be provided. So 5 months later I told my provincial about this experience and he said that during the coming summer he wanted me to travel to East Africa, see the places I might be serving at, make my 8-day retreat while there, and then let him know whether this was still right for me.
Well, even before I left I was 99.9% sure of this, but I did as he asked me to do, and I came back to the States and Manresa confirmed that this was it, that I was to begin preparing to say 'goodbye' and hand over to others the leadership of programs I had led and let go of a rich, wonderful life I had experienced at Manresa for the last 19 year. It took me a yer to do that! In some moments it all seemed like a make-believe situation; at times I would have a moment of total wonderment at what had happened (and I still have such moments here in Kenya at times, remarking to myself that I am in Africa and not in the States!)
While preparing to come to Kenya I had thought many times of dying here a violent death, and at numerous times since I arrived I have thought the same... that the longings I felt during the movie to love like those men had loved would sweep over me and feel totally right deep inside. I am not suicidal, but there is something indescribably beautiful about knowing Him as the greatest find of your life, the "pearl of great price" as it prompts you to go and sell everything you have in order to have it. Many people think you are crazy, over the top or over the edge, yet this kind of relationship, this kind of love contains its own logic that makes it all supremely sensible. There comes a time that one who has been hit with such a gift doesn't give two hoots about what others think. It is so obvious that it is gift, and totally unearned. No one is ever worthy of such, but wow, when it is given, you are changed forever. It sometimes makes you sound like a fool, yes, a fool for Christ, as St. Paul talks about. But when you are found by this amazing grace, this surprising blessing, then you live with a new perspective, a new lease on life. You seem forever young and it doesn't matter anymore whether you are alive in this world or with Him in the next. In either case, you are with Him and that is all that matters.
Sometime last week one of our Jesuits was murdered in Homs, Syria. He had served both Christians and Muslims living in that area for a long time. It has been 30 years since he has been in Syria. With the training of a psychotherapist, he was especially helpful to the people of that area. Dutch by nationality, he was 75 years old and considered well the danger of staying there. Like the monks in Algeria, he chose to stay and suffered the loss of his life last week. He was dragged out of his Jesuit residence by masked men (cowards) and shot twice in the face. I honestly felt envy for the opportunity that was his to live for Christ the way he did and especially to lay down his life for Christ in the way he did. I mean what I say. I envy him in the grace that was given to him to love Christ this deeply and without reservation. The Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius hold out to the person making them such desires toward Christ, to choose to offer yourself totally, even to ask that you be chosen for such if it would bring God greater glory than your living on and not suffering so.
This is not masochism, this is love that much of the world does not understand. It is something it runs from and calls crazy, stupid. But when Jesus the Christ is this real for you, when the Father lets you really meet Him and discover the riches of His heart, of His person, then this all makes supreme sense . . . not that one does not feel fear of violence and dying so, but there is something so blessed to still offer yourself to God from a level deeper and stronger than the fear.
I wish all of you who read this a blessings-filled Holy Week and a Spirit-filled Easter season. May spring come to you quickly; we are slowly moving into autumn with nights that are rather chilly. Great sleeping weather and a beautiful sky with the Paschal moon and Mars in the evening, eastern sky to admire.
Bernie Owens
It is Tuesday afternoon here, 3 PM, the 15th of April. The sun shines brightly and April shower clouds loom nearby but no rain has fallen here so far. The temperature must be about the high 70s or low 80s, just perfect. I would prefer to write what I will be writing tomorrow, the 16th, but I have a big meeting to go to in the city tomorrow afternoon (all morning is given to the four retreatants I am with--what stories I am hearing!!) and will not have the time then to write.
Why is tomorrow so important to me? Because this April 16 marks three years to the day when the inspiration to come to East Africa was given to me. It was so obviously something God did to me; there isn't a shadow of a doubt about that! In the moment it happened I was so surprised and had the sense that it was of God, but it took me an overnight before I realized that truly this was of God and it had to be taken seriously. It began a revolution of unprecedented thoughts in me. I have to tell you how it happened. I tell the story because it makes God so real, so tangible, so surprising and more readily appreciated as truly kind and generous. I also tell the story because I am close to 8 months since I arrived here and it is the first anniversary of this watershed moment in my life . It is so much on my mind. On top of it all, this is Holy Week with our pondering a story of tragic love and victory over violence and death, a story that never gets old.
It was on the afternoon of Saturday, April 16, 2011 that I and a friend went to the Royal Oak Main movie theatre to see "Of Gods and Men." It was the day before Palm Sunday and four weeks to the day since I had led the funeral for my mother. I knew just enough about the movie's main theme to know that it was the kind of movie that would fit with my own efforts to stay in the spirit of Lent and especially get ready for Holy Week that was beginning at sundown that evening.
The movie concerns a group of French monks who had established a monastery in northern Algeria during the 1970s. It was located at the edge of a small Muslim village. They had come not to convert these people but rather witness to the presence of Christ to them. The movie opens with some scenes showing how well the monks were received in the village, of how the people had depended on them even for immediate medical care and some spontaneous "counseling" by one of the monks for a 13-14 year old girl who wanted to talk with one of the monks about her being forced into an arranged marriage. The dialogue between them is priceless! As the story of the film unfolds, you learn about a jihadist group coming into Algeria to challenge the established government and military and announcing that all foreigners had four weeks to leave the country or they would be killed. Soon you witness a bit of a scene in which 12 Croatian workers near the monastery and known by the monks had had their throats slit and left in the open for all to see. There is, then, much fear throughout the village and increased government-military presence. The movie then focuses in on the life of the monks and their reactions to this threat. You see then much debate among them as to whether they would stay in Algeria or leave. There are numerous scenes from a number of community deliberations on this question. You hear voices of fear and voices of calm, lots of reasons cited for leaving and some for staying. At the same time you witness some scenes of their praying in common the Liturgy of the Hours (morning prayer and vespers) and then praying the Eucharist as well. All of this is so done so very well. Most authentic!!
On Christmas day about a half dozen jihadists come unannounced to the monastery and the Prior of the community, Fr. Christian de Cherge, meets them at the front door. The head of the jihadists introduces himself and his group. Fr. Christian calmly states that he and the other monks do not side with either group, that they will not bear arms nor even strive to defend themselves, that it is the feast of the birth of the Savior, the Prince of Peace, and the monks welcome them in His name. It soon is revealed that one of the jihadists is wounded and needs medical care. The commander asks for medical aid and Fr. Christian welcomes him; the fighter is tended to, and the jihadists leave.
Months go by while the monks continue to debate/discern what are they are to do. In the film Fr. Christian is remarkable for how he stands in the midst of his fellow monks and holds the center, a place of peace and clarity of mind to help the monks listen to each other and finally come to a communal decision that is in keeping with how God calls them to be. They all decide to stay. For them it is the only authentic response in light of their vocations and what they had vowed. They would stay with the people and continue to witness to Christ despite the tension and how this left them quite vulnerable. They saw the people themselves as vulnerable. To leave would be to abandon them. It would especially be a failure to trust Christ and the Father. This became clear to them through their prayer and in all their discussing the two options.
One of the most moving scenes of the whole movie is a moment when they receive a visiting monk who brings with him some much appreciated French red wine for all of them to enjoy. This leads to a scene where they are all sitting around a table, drinking red wine and listening to a beautiful piece of music from Tchaikovsky played on a cassette tape recorder. It is clearly an allusion to the Last Supper and their enjoying the companionship in Christ that has held them together in what you know is one of their final moments. Like Christ they had set their hearts on a common choice, to stay, and this moment was their ratifying their choice. It was an agape moment, echoes of the meal Jesus had with His disciples.
During these months, from December of 1994 till January of 1996 the monks live in this situation until on January 21 they were suddenly visited by the jihadists. Two hid under beds and escaped while the other seven, including Christian, the community Prior, were kidnapped and taken away into the snowy mountains. Months passed without knowledge of their fate. The movie ends with a statement that they had all been executed.
Later, it was learned that the government had chased the jihadists to a barn and on May 21 from a helicopter unloaded a hail of bullets into the barn. In the process the monks were also killed since the jihadists were holding the monks with them. The monks were buried on June 4 after their corpses had been beheaded by the government to make it look like the jihadists had murdered them. Many of the Muslims in the village of the monastery grieved their deaths and attended the Christian funeral. Christian, some two years before his death, wrote a letter to his parents and siblings back in France and said that he thought it a good chance that he would die in the terrible conflict that had come upon Algeria. He was thanking God for having the opportunity, unworthy as he was, to lay down his life for a people and a land he had come to love. He said that he forgave ahead of time his assassin who he said he presumed was doing what he thought was right in killing him and looked forward to the day that the assassin and he would be in heaven together as brothers forever; he also said that he prayed to be able to see the Muslim people as God sees them, with the light of Christ (yes, the light of Christ!) shining from them.
Well, my friends, it was all I could do not to cry aloud during the movie. I wept and wept through most of the movie while saying so many times, "I want to love like these men loved. I want to give to God like these people did." I spent so much energy holding in my emotions. It would have been terribly embarrassing for me to cry out, even though there were not that many people in the movie house. I had a headache following the movie--no wonder!
What these men did as a group of brothers dedicated to God was to live through the same dilemma and agony that Jesus suffered through when He was in the Garden of Gethsemani, struggling over whether He would stay and be captured and crucified or leave before the soldiers came to arrest Him. For me a second title for the movie could have been--"Gethsemani Relived".
Then it was during my drive back to UD Mercy where I was living at the time (I was on sabbatical from Manresa) that the big surprise came. Alone with my thoughts and feelings regarding the film, I began to think "East Africa." This thought came gently and stayed with me while driving from Royal Oak down Woodward Ave and west on Six Mile to the university. All that time I am quite abstracted from the night lights along the streets and my hunger for a good dinner. Never before had I thought such thoughts. The novelty of it all caught my attention. I recalled that I no longer had to stay close to my mother in her dying state. She was now with God. I thought I didn't have to stay in the USA for anything, not even for my siblings nor for Manresa, but that I was free to consider this and was amazed by it all. Nothing came to me as an objection. I felt an amazing freedom and sense of being taken off my feet! I could hardly believe what was happening. I looked at myself as someone new, with possibilities that took away my breath. In the days that followed through Holy Week and the Easter season I continued to feel the peace and sense of being taken up by God and shown a new life that was being offered, not commanded, but invited to choose. Never did I feel compelled or ordered. It always had the feel of a respectful invitation that I was free to decline. But really, how could I decline,especially in light of who was offering it! And I knew without a doubt from whom this offer was coming. How could I decline? He means too much to me, too much to turn Him down. It later dawned on me that I could never preach the same nor teach some of my favorite themes if I were to decline this offer, to withdraw and cite my age or some other excuse. With the invitation came the security of knowing that everything I would need to act on this would be given, that I had nothing to fear or worry about. Somehow all would be provided. So 5 months later I told my provincial about this experience and he said that during the coming summer he wanted me to travel to East Africa, see the places I might be serving at, make my 8-day retreat while there, and then let him know whether this was still right for me.
Well, even before I left I was 99.9% sure of this, but I did as he asked me to do, and I came back to the States and Manresa confirmed that this was it, that I was to begin preparing to say 'goodbye' and hand over to others the leadership of programs I had led and let go of a rich, wonderful life I had experienced at Manresa for the last 19 year. It took me a yer to do that! In some moments it all seemed like a make-believe situation; at times I would have a moment of total wonderment at what had happened (and I still have such moments here in Kenya at times, remarking to myself that I am in Africa and not in the States!)
While preparing to come to Kenya I had thought many times of dying here a violent death, and at numerous times since I arrived I have thought the same... that the longings I felt during the movie to love like those men had loved would sweep over me and feel totally right deep inside. I am not suicidal, but there is something indescribably beautiful about knowing Him as the greatest find of your life, the "pearl of great price" as it prompts you to go and sell everything you have in order to have it. Many people think you are crazy, over the top or over the edge, yet this kind of relationship, this kind of love contains its own logic that makes it all supremely sensible. There comes a time that one who has been hit with such a gift doesn't give two hoots about what others think. It is so obvious that it is gift, and totally unearned. No one is ever worthy of such, but wow, when it is given, you are changed forever. It sometimes makes you sound like a fool, yes, a fool for Christ, as St. Paul talks about. But when you are found by this amazing grace, this surprising blessing, then you live with a new perspective, a new lease on life. You seem forever young and it doesn't matter anymore whether you are alive in this world or with Him in the next. In either case, you are with Him and that is all that matters.
Sometime last week one of our Jesuits was murdered in Homs, Syria. He had served both Christians and Muslims living in that area for a long time. It has been 30 years since he has been in Syria. With the training of a psychotherapist, he was especially helpful to the people of that area. Dutch by nationality, he was 75 years old and considered well the danger of staying there. Like the monks in Algeria, he chose to stay and suffered the loss of his life last week. He was dragged out of his Jesuit residence by masked men (cowards) and shot twice in the face. I honestly felt envy for the opportunity that was his to live for Christ the way he did and especially to lay down his life for Christ in the way he did. I mean what I say. I envy him in the grace that was given to him to love Christ this deeply and without reservation. The Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius hold out to the person making them such desires toward Christ, to choose to offer yourself totally, even to ask that you be chosen for such if it would bring God greater glory than your living on and not suffering so.
This is not masochism, this is love that much of the world does not understand. It is something it runs from and calls crazy, stupid. But when Jesus the Christ is this real for you, when the Father lets you really meet Him and discover the riches of His heart, of His person, then this all makes supreme sense . . . not that one does not feel fear of violence and dying so, but there is something so blessed to still offer yourself to God from a level deeper and stronger than the fear.
I wish all of you who read this a blessings-filled Holy Week and a Spirit-filled Easter season. May spring come to you quickly; we are slowly moving into autumn with nights that are rather chilly. Great sleeping weather and a beautiful sky with the Paschal moon and Mars in the evening, eastern sky to admire.
Bernie Owens
Saturday, April 5, 2014
Dear Friends,
Saturday, April 5: big overcast here and hinting at rain! Still, I am going swimming later this afternoon, outdoors that is.
Bits of news from here: last week I had the great pleasure of connecting by way of Skype with a good friend, Jim Moloney. Jim is dying but is alert enough for us to have had a good conversation. I have known him from my days at Manresa. He and his family have been loyal participants at so many of the activities at Manresa. Some years ago he made for me a copy of various pieces of music, many of them from popular films but most notably from some pieces that the famous Chinese cello player, Yo-yo Ma played. One was the theme song from the movie "Mission." I have enjoyed many times playing this CD. So during our Skype-conversation, I had the pleasure of playing back to Jim that song from the "Mission." What a beautiful moment to witness the pleasure, the joy on his face when listening to that song coming to him from Kenya. What a gift Skype is.
One of my pleasures is to walk by each morning on the way to the dining room a rose bush that grows about 6.5 feet tall. It is loaded now with pink blossoms. Perhaps 15 are now open and the buds of maybe a dozen more yet to open up. There are other rose bushes in our yard, some with yellow blossoms, a number of them deep red, but at this time the most impressive one is the one with all the pink, and then to see it standing so tall, so high!
You should see the sky here at nighttime. The moon is moving toward a full moon, the paschal moon, and the stars and planets sparkle. Wow!
On the walk up to my office, a 3 minute walk, I pass under some trees and near bushes that the bees are working over intensely! We have our own beehives, so the bees are close by and it is quite something to hear this rather intense humming or buzzing they are making.
The word is out: for Easter midday meal we will have a big turkey with cranberries and sweet potatoes. I can't wait!!!
I trust you have heard in the news about some serious violence in the two main cities of this nation: Nairobi and Mombasa, which is a beautiful resort city on the beaches of the Indian ocean. The violence is coming from certain immigrants from neighboring Somalia. Somalia is mostly Islamic in its religious affiliation. It is very poor and ripe for radical ideologies. There is a long history of bad blood between Kenya and Somalia. A few years ago Kenya sent in military personnel to fight the Al Quaida connected group called Al Shabaab who were creating major problems for Kenya. The Al Shabaab people in an effort to take over Somalia beat up and killed a number of its own people. In the aftermath 100s of thousands of refugees came into Kenya just to be safe. Kenya then had to pay the bill for providing emergency shelter and food for these desperate people. The Kenyan military, supplied heavily by the US and I suspect Britain, killed many of those in the training camps of Al Shabba in Somalia. So Al Shabaab wanted revenge and bombed one of the big malls here in Nairobi last September. Recently, they have caused much chaos by killing 6 people injured around two dozen in two restaurants last week with grenades and then whipped up hatred and violent ideas among young teenage boys and young men in the port city of Mombasa. A few nights ago an iman, condemned for his seditious ideas by many other Islamic imans, was shot to death, the third assassination of an iman in that city in the last two years. All three were publicly endorsing violence and stirring up teenagers and men to riot. It is strongly suspected that the police take matters into their own hands and eliminate these trouble-makers.
Do we here feel unsafe? No, not at all. We are known in this area of the westside of Nairobi as having little or nothing. There is nothing here to get in a robbery. We think one of guards last July and August was syphoning gasoline from our cars. One of our cooks was fired last December 31 after being caught stealing meat from our kitchen. Petty stuff. We have a wall all the way around our 46 acres and guards at the gate 24/7, dogs too in a kennel that bark at different times of the night. Still, we could be hit by inside people, but again, we have so little that can be stolen and turned into money.
This nation is made up of 44 million. The vast majority are simple farmers, living close to the earth and with their animals. There is 40% unemployment, yes, 40%. Therein lies the basis for so much social, economic discontent and anxiety. Therein lies the reason for so much theft and many break-ins, domestic violence, alcoholism, temptations to hopelessness. Connected with it is so much corruption among governmental officials and police, who can be bought off. So many are really poor. To take bribes or to steal can become a way of surviving.
(Two hours later) I just got back from swimming. I did laps for about 25 minutes. Just wonderful! Tomorrow afternoon I am joining a family with two little children whose father works on the grounds here for a trip into the mountains. All five of us are going up into the mountains to where we look out at from the bluff on our retreat house grounds. I have mentioned before that these mountains have the shape and appearance of a range of Appalachian mountains in Pennsylvania or in Virginia. LOts of forest area, lots of trees, some villages. They go as high as 8,000 feet above sea level. (we are at 6,000 feet) and I am told on the other side of the mountain range is a huge drop-off into a enormously large, spacious valley. I am really looking forward to seeing this!
In the last 10 days or so I have had one detail of the gospel reading from two Sundays ago stay with me a lot: Jesus says in chapter 4 of St. John's Gospel that He has come to finish the work the Father gave Him. I was intrigued by the significance of the word 'work' as Jesus used it. He says, "My Father is at work and I too am at work. I do the only the things I see my Father doing." So I studied a commentary and asked a resident scripture scholar what the word 'work' means in this context. He said that it refers to God's bringing light to what is otherwise total spiritual darkness, being lost and being without guidance, getting spiritually lost and risking eternal loss. ("The Light came into the world and the darkness did not put it out.") So this has been with me and has even made me aware of how many people walk in darkness, feel unloved and go looking for love and purpose in money, pleasure, and power...only to be left largely empty and in some cases cheated by all the promise of these possessions/goals. I find this word 'work' interpreting my own coming to Kenya and giving meaning to what I have been doing here. I too feel at times I have certain tasks to accomplish here, that I have been given by God a work to do, and I have been given time to realize it.
Next Monday marks the 20th anniversary of the beginning of the genocide in Rwanda; in a period of 100 days 800,000 people were hacked or burned to death in that nation, not all that far from here. Wow!!!!
This past week I have had four people to guide for their 8-day retreats: two nuns (one a Kenyan in her late 40s, another an Irish woman in her 70s); then two men, one who is 44 and is to be ordained a priest in just 3 weeks from today, the other a French Canadian priest, 86 years old, getting ready to return to Canada after spending most of his adult life in Africa as a Missionary of Africa. I see each of them once a day for up to 45 minutes, sometimes the conversations are shorter than that. They pray on scripture passages I give them, usually new ones each day. What great conversations we have, what meaningful lives they have, how touching their search for a deeper life in God and a more generous outpouring of their lives for the God they love so. I am privileged to sit and take this in, to be a guide for them, mediating between them and the Lord. Next week I get a new batch of retreatants. For that period we will have a full house. Oh boy, and with all the special Holy Week liturgies!
I continue to read in the book "The Depth of God." It is getting quite good. It is very different in that it was written by a Jesuit who spent most of his adult life in Taiwan. So he interfaces Christianity with what Buddhism, Confucianism and Taoism say on who is the human person and what makes one authentic, in touch with the source of life. He thinks that those who do not enjoy the gift of revelation, as Christians do, have much to teach Christians about the search for God by their engaging in a deep reflection on the depths of the human person. In short, they have to try harder than Christians. They use reason alone and take the thinker far, without the help of revelation. Yet there are some insights, some knowledge they can never reach because human reason can go just so far without the help of God's revelation. The gift of Christ revealed by the Father is absolutely necessary to appreciating certain elements of the depths of the human person and the depths of the Source of all Life and Meaning (God.). Anyway, it is slow, deep reading but very worthwhile. I am taking lots of notes.
It is time for me to move on. I will write again on April 16, when I mark three years to the day that the inspiration to come to Kenya came to me. More about that then!
Bernie Owens
Saturday, April 5: big overcast here and hinting at rain! Still, I am going swimming later this afternoon, outdoors that is.
Bits of news from here: last week I had the great pleasure of connecting by way of Skype with a good friend, Jim Moloney. Jim is dying but is alert enough for us to have had a good conversation. I have known him from my days at Manresa. He and his family have been loyal participants at so many of the activities at Manresa. Some years ago he made for me a copy of various pieces of music, many of them from popular films but most notably from some pieces that the famous Chinese cello player, Yo-yo Ma played. One was the theme song from the movie "Mission." I have enjoyed many times playing this CD. So during our Skype-conversation, I had the pleasure of playing back to Jim that song from the "Mission." What a beautiful moment to witness the pleasure, the joy on his face when listening to that song coming to him from Kenya. What a gift Skype is.
One of my pleasures is to walk by each morning on the way to the dining room a rose bush that grows about 6.5 feet tall. It is loaded now with pink blossoms. Perhaps 15 are now open and the buds of maybe a dozen more yet to open up. There are other rose bushes in our yard, some with yellow blossoms, a number of them deep red, but at this time the most impressive one is the one with all the pink, and then to see it standing so tall, so high!
You should see the sky here at nighttime. The moon is moving toward a full moon, the paschal moon, and the stars and planets sparkle. Wow!
On the walk up to my office, a 3 minute walk, I pass under some trees and near bushes that the bees are working over intensely! We have our own beehives, so the bees are close by and it is quite something to hear this rather intense humming or buzzing they are making.
The word is out: for Easter midday meal we will have a big turkey with cranberries and sweet potatoes. I can't wait!!!
I trust you have heard in the news about some serious violence in the two main cities of this nation: Nairobi and Mombasa, which is a beautiful resort city on the beaches of the Indian ocean. The violence is coming from certain immigrants from neighboring Somalia. Somalia is mostly Islamic in its religious affiliation. It is very poor and ripe for radical ideologies. There is a long history of bad blood between Kenya and Somalia. A few years ago Kenya sent in military personnel to fight the Al Quaida connected group called Al Shabaab who were creating major problems for Kenya. The Al Shabaab people in an effort to take over Somalia beat up and killed a number of its own people. In the aftermath 100s of thousands of refugees came into Kenya just to be safe. Kenya then had to pay the bill for providing emergency shelter and food for these desperate people. The Kenyan military, supplied heavily by the US and I suspect Britain, killed many of those in the training camps of Al Shabba in Somalia. So Al Shabaab wanted revenge and bombed one of the big malls here in Nairobi last September. Recently, they have caused much chaos by killing 6 people injured around two dozen in two restaurants last week with grenades and then whipped up hatred and violent ideas among young teenage boys and young men in the port city of Mombasa. A few nights ago an iman, condemned for his seditious ideas by many other Islamic imans, was shot to death, the third assassination of an iman in that city in the last two years. All three were publicly endorsing violence and stirring up teenagers and men to riot. It is strongly suspected that the police take matters into their own hands and eliminate these trouble-makers.
Do we here feel unsafe? No, not at all. We are known in this area of the westside of Nairobi as having little or nothing. There is nothing here to get in a robbery. We think one of guards last July and August was syphoning gasoline from our cars. One of our cooks was fired last December 31 after being caught stealing meat from our kitchen. Petty stuff. We have a wall all the way around our 46 acres and guards at the gate 24/7, dogs too in a kennel that bark at different times of the night. Still, we could be hit by inside people, but again, we have so little that can be stolen and turned into money.
This nation is made up of 44 million. The vast majority are simple farmers, living close to the earth and with their animals. There is 40% unemployment, yes, 40%. Therein lies the basis for so much social, economic discontent and anxiety. Therein lies the reason for so much theft and many break-ins, domestic violence, alcoholism, temptations to hopelessness. Connected with it is so much corruption among governmental officials and police, who can be bought off. So many are really poor. To take bribes or to steal can become a way of surviving.
(Two hours later) I just got back from swimming. I did laps for about 25 minutes. Just wonderful! Tomorrow afternoon I am joining a family with two little children whose father works on the grounds here for a trip into the mountains. All five of us are going up into the mountains to where we look out at from the bluff on our retreat house grounds. I have mentioned before that these mountains have the shape and appearance of a range of Appalachian mountains in Pennsylvania or in Virginia. LOts of forest area, lots of trees, some villages. They go as high as 8,000 feet above sea level. (we are at 6,000 feet) and I am told on the other side of the mountain range is a huge drop-off into a enormously large, spacious valley. I am really looking forward to seeing this!
In the last 10 days or so I have had one detail of the gospel reading from two Sundays ago stay with me a lot: Jesus says in chapter 4 of St. John's Gospel that He has come to finish the work the Father gave Him. I was intrigued by the significance of the word 'work' as Jesus used it. He says, "My Father is at work and I too am at work. I do the only the things I see my Father doing." So I studied a commentary and asked a resident scripture scholar what the word 'work' means in this context. He said that it refers to God's bringing light to what is otherwise total spiritual darkness, being lost and being without guidance, getting spiritually lost and risking eternal loss. ("The Light came into the world and the darkness did not put it out.") So this has been with me and has even made me aware of how many people walk in darkness, feel unloved and go looking for love and purpose in money, pleasure, and power...only to be left largely empty and in some cases cheated by all the promise of these possessions/goals. I find this word 'work' interpreting my own coming to Kenya and giving meaning to what I have been doing here. I too feel at times I have certain tasks to accomplish here, that I have been given by God a work to do, and I have been given time to realize it.
Next Monday marks the 20th anniversary of the beginning of the genocide in Rwanda; in a period of 100 days 800,000 people were hacked or burned to death in that nation, not all that far from here. Wow!!!!
This past week I have had four people to guide for their 8-day retreats: two nuns (one a Kenyan in her late 40s, another an Irish woman in her 70s); then two men, one who is 44 and is to be ordained a priest in just 3 weeks from today, the other a French Canadian priest, 86 years old, getting ready to return to Canada after spending most of his adult life in Africa as a Missionary of Africa. I see each of them once a day for up to 45 minutes, sometimes the conversations are shorter than that. They pray on scripture passages I give them, usually new ones each day. What great conversations we have, what meaningful lives they have, how touching their search for a deeper life in God and a more generous outpouring of their lives for the God they love so. I am privileged to sit and take this in, to be a guide for them, mediating between them and the Lord. Next week I get a new batch of retreatants. For that period we will have a full house. Oh boy, and with all the special Holy Week liturgies!
I continue to read in the book "The Depth of God." It is getting quite good. It is very different in that it was written by a Jesuit who spent most of his adult life in Taiwan. So he interfaces Christianity with what Buddhism, Confucianism and Taoism say on who is the human person and what makes one authentic, in touch with the source of life. He thinks that those who do not enjoy the gift of revelation, as Christians do, have much to teach Christians about the search for God by their engaging in a deep reflection on the depths of the human person. In short, they have to try harder than Christians. They use reason alone and take the thinker far, without the help of revelation. Yet there are some insights, some knowledge they can never reach because human reason can go just so far without the help of God's revelation. The gift of Christ revealed by the Father is absolutely necessary to appreciating certain elements of the depths of the human person and the depths of the Source of all Life and Meaning (God.). Anyway, it is slow, deep reading but very worthwhile. I am taking lots of notes.
It is time for me to move on. I will write again on April 16, when I mark three years to the day that the inspiration to come to Kenya came to me. More about that then!
Bernie Owens
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