March 2016 – Love, the driving force: a journey of discernment

Easter Sunday

Happy Easter everyone!

I hope you’ve all had a beautiful and blessed Easter celebration! Our internet has been a bit wonky the last few days (it always seems to fade in and out unexpectedly on holidays) so I’m a bit late with the Easter Sunday photos. But here they are!

At 5:30am we arrived at the church just in time to witness a beautiful Filipino tradition:a procession enacting the Risen Christ meeting his mother. Although this encounter is not described in the bible, it surely happened that Jesus went to see his mother after the Resurrection.

To re-enact this encounter, there are two simultaneous processions. The men of the parish follow the Risen Christ around a particular section of the neighbourhood while the women follow Mary, Jesus’ mother. Mary, who is deep in mourning, wears a black veil.

And then Jesus appears! At first in the distance.

And then he draws closer.

An angel announces their meeting.

Mary’s veil is removed and she sees her son!

There is much rejoicing and cheering! The angels send out a shower of flower petals upon the earth.

Filled with the joy of this encounter, we enter the church for the 6am Mass, passing by the Risen Christ.

We enter the church which is decorated in Easter splendour and packed with people.

A tropical garden fills the sanctuary for Easter Sunday.

After the Mass we continued the celebration at home – delicious coffee and Easter chocolates were consumed, and perhaps even a crepe or two (or three)! And in the afternoon we had a magnificent Easter banquet at Mary Ward House with 23 IBVM and CJ sisters, topped off with even more chocolate (including the brownies made before the Mother of all Vigils!!). A glorious Easter all around.

Alleluia!

The Mother of All Vigils (Holy Saturday)

The cover of the missalette for Easter Vigil Mass, also known as the Mother of all Vigils here in the Philippines. The priest even referred to it as such during his homily.

The Vigil is about to begin.

Lighting the Easter candle.

With our lit candles at the beginning of Mass. (With the fans off, it got very hot very fast.)

Setting the sanctuary for Easter. The cross is unveiled and banners are hung and the altar is decorated with flowers.

Renewing our baptismal promises by the light of the Easter candle.

Earlier in the day…

Making brownies (3 trays!) for Easter Sunday lunch.

Percy after his annual Easter bath. Chilling on the clothesline.

Good Friday

A rather blurry view of the sanctuary, waiting for Mass to begin. To secure a seat close to fans, I arrived almost an hour early. It was worth it.

Lining up for the veneration of the cross.

While waiting in line, I had time to admire the stained glass windows.

From the Stations of the Cross in the church parking lot.

5th Street (adjacent to the church) full of hopeful vendors looking to make a sale to the throngs of churchgoers. All this week at Mass we were warned that thieves and pickpockets would also be among the vendors so to be vigilant.

A much better shot of the parish and the statue of Our Lady of Mount Carmel.

Holy Thursday

Rehearsing for Holy Thursday Mass

Breaking out the fans (it was VERY hot in the church)

Bringing out chairs for the washing of the feet

The washing of the feet

The altar of repose (mobbed with people stopping to pray)

Outside the church after Mass – lots of people walking around and praying the Stations of the Cross

Our Lady of Mount Carmel Parish (not a great photo but you get the idea…)

Palm Sunday

Living in the Philippines for a year brings the gift of experiencing faith through a new culture. I have been looking forward to experiencing Lent, Holy Week, and Easter with new eyes. Holy Week is now upon us but rather than give any commentary on the celebrations this week, I would like to simply share images. Below are photos from Palm Sunday.

Making and selling palm branches along Broadway Avenue

Many different styles

Palms in progress

With colourful paper flowers

Selling by the roadside

The sanctuary of Our Lady of Mount Carmel Church on Palm Sunday

Basking in grace

I am in a bit of a state right now. This has been a profoundly grace-filled week and I’m just kind of basking in the goodness of it all.

As mentioned in my last post, I was really moved by an activity we did with Sr. Gerry called “The Play of Life”. We each created a snapshot of a time in early childhood using little dolls and decorative materials to create the scene. I received a lot of insight about myself from this activity and I knew that I wanted to return to it. But first I needed a bit of space to process it and let it settle into my mind and heart.

I should also mention that I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts lately. I find our internet connection is pretty dicey in the evenings. It can be hard to watch tv or a movie or even something on YouTube so I’ve gotten into the habit of downloading podcasts during the day when the internet connection is more reliable and listening to them at night. Lately, I’ve been listening to The RobCast (hosted by Rob Bell) and I have been really moved by his messages. They’re positive and thought provoking and challenging. One of the podcasts in particular (19 Letters!) has fueled me to look at the story I have been telling myself about my childhood and adolescence, and to think about how I can retell the story in Christ (anakephalaiosasthai – listen to the podcast!).

Feeling encouraged by the podcast and thinking that I would recreate the activity with different periods from my life, I went on a hunt to find some dolls (not Barbie dolls) that could be a reasonable facsimile of my family. I was not successful. Then someone suggested I make figures of my family with modeling clay. At first I laughed it off (the figures would be lucky to look like human beings let alone my family) but when I really couldn’t find any suitable dolls, I thought I would give it a try. I bought some modeling clay and put it in my cupboard while I let “The Play of Life” percolate inside me.

And there the modeling clay still sits. Instead of creating clay facsimiles of my family members, during my prayer last weekend I felt God tell me to not worry about being busy creating new scenes or making figures, but to just sit with a photo of the scene I had made with Sr. Gerry. Just sit with it and really look at it.

So that’s what I did. For five days this week, for an hour at a time, I sat with that photo and let God speak to me. And what did God say? God said, remember when…

All of a sudden I remembered what it was like when my parents decided to separate and all the stuff that went on and how scared and uncertain I felt. And then I could see it and I knew it (deeply knew it) so clearly: our parents really loved us (me and my brother Daniel). They really loved us. I could see all the ways they tried to put us first, to help us with the divorce, to make us feel loved throughout it all. They loved us so much. I just sat there, feeling all this love, and I started to cry. It was simple and beautiful.

It happened every day. Each day I looked at a different section of the photo – my Woodford family, my Rudolph family, my friend Jana – and I remembered all the love and the joy and the fun times. All of the laughter. There was so much laughter. All of the goodness over my childhood that helped to balance out the stuff that was not so good. I felt so loved by my family and friends and by God, and I was overflowing with love for all of them. In the midst of all that love, God was teaching me other things too. Teaching me about compassion and forgiveness and freedom.

And now, at the end of this week, the grace I have received astounds me. God has shown me important truths about myself and about my life. I have always been loved and I have always been enough. And then, even bigger: at all times and in all places, I am loved and I am enough.

What to do with this gift, with this grace that is given so freely and has taken me by surprise with its intensity? The only thing I can do: say thank you, God. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I know that this grace is not meant for me alone. I am grateful for it but I know that this grace belongs to everyone and God wants to give it to everyone. It is truly possible to see the story of our lives in a fresh way, to learn important truths about who we are. If you are reading this blog post and you feel a tug in your heart, maybe a desire to look with new eyes at a story you’ve been telling yourself, please give yourself the freedom to do it. First, I suggest you listen to The RobCast podcast I link to above (it’ll give you the boost you need!), and then make time and space to listen to God’s nudgings. God knows you and will guide you in whatever way is best for you. The grace is there to be received.

Playing with dolls

Last week our noviciate house had the great privilege to welcome Sr. Geraldine Kearney, sgs, a member of the Sisters of the Good Samaritan of the Order of St. Benedict, to lead us in a week long session on intercultural communication.

Given that we are a household composed of Australians, Vietnamese, an Indian, and a Canadian, intercultural communication is a vital part of our daily community life. Before the workshop, I wasn’t aware of how many layers of culture and personality are embedded in how we communicate. I also wasn’t aware of the very Canadian values and assumptions I bring to communication. I am happy to say that I learned a lot over the course of the week.

Sr. Geraldine skillfully led us through a series of exercises and reflections on culture and identity, values, assumptions, what it means to come from a high context culture (such as Vietnamese and Indian culture) and from a low context culture (such as Canadian and Australian culture), and how we exhibit all of these cultural traits through the way we communicate.

Part of the session felt a bit like a refresh on cultural studies I had done in social studies classes in junior high and high school, but it was really far more personal and meaningful than that. Each of us shared cultural symbols (I shared the maple leaf, as emblazoned on the bottle of maple syrup I lugged with me from Canada), and personal stories about our lives in our respective cultures. It was a wonderful time of bonding as a group.

For me, the best part of the whole week was the morning we spent playing with dolls. As part of a module called “The Play of Life” we created representations of particular periods in our lives (generally a time before the age of 10 years old) using plastic dolls and other decorations to act as symbols of that time. I chose the period when I was 8 years old and my parents had decided to separate. There was a surprising amount of emotion stirred up in me as I created my scene, but I was also struck by how I could look at my life much more objectively from that vantage point. As a child I really could only see myself in the situation but as an adult I can now see more clearly the roles of my father, mother, and brother and other extended family. The exercise gave me a better sense of perspective and understanding of myself and my life.

*26th Avenue: The Cabin in the Woods (a snapshot of life at age 8)*

Throughout this noviciate, I am continuing the interior work I began during my candidacy year, particularly with respect to my mother’s struggle with alcoholism (and my own struggle with her alcoholism), and I think that playing with dolls will actually be a very helpful and creative way to do that work. I’ve been asking God in my prayer to show me how I can look back on some of my past experiences (and that assumptions I’ve made as a result) in order to see them more objectively and then to release the power they hold over me. I think playing with dolls may be a key part of the answer.