An Easter Story of Coming Home

In 2012, I was asked by Sue Hamilton, the Pastoral Assistant at Regina Mundi Parish in Hamilton, to initiate a ministry of Christian Initiation of Children Who Have Reached Catechetical Age.  This ministry was created in response to the release of the Diocese of Hamilton Sacramental Guidelines: the Initiation of Children.  The document stated that,

“According to the law of the Church (Canon 852.1), children who have reached the age of reason and are of catechetical age (that is, children who have completed grade 2 or are older) who desire to celebrate Baptism are prepared through their participation in the Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults (Part II, Chapter 1).  In keeping with this rite, they are to be prepared to celebrate the sacraments of Baptism, Confirmation, and First Eucharist at the same celebration.”[1] 

My ministry with children has been joyful and rewarding and has resulted in the Christian Initiation of eight young people at Easter Vigils in the last three years.

Since there were no young candidates for RCIA at our Parish this year, I have had the opportunity to participate on the Adult RCIA team which has been a joyful and very personal experience.  Not only did my sister Josie join the RCIA team to update her knowledge of the Catholic faith, but to my complete surprise, my husband, Ted, at age sixty-five, after almost forty-two years of marriage and attending Sunday Mass for the last thirty years, joined RCIA as a candidate.  When asked, “Why now?’’ he responded that he wanted to be a better role model for our Granddaughter Allie who will be making her First Reconciliation on March 19^th, and her First Communion on May 7^th. 

Ted’s journey to Catholicism has been a gift and a blessing to our entire family and circle of friends, and an answer to the many prayers of many people over many years.  And to think that in the end, by the grace of God, it was a “little child” who led him!  (Paraphrased from Isaiah 11:6)

We are looking forward to the Easter Vigil when Ted will be fully initiated into the Catholic Church.  We praise and thank You, O Loving God, for in our family we know for sure that, as my dear friend, Josie, says, Your “delays are not denials.”       

Leanne Thompson, a companion (associate) from the Hamilton neighbourhood of the Congregation of the Sisters of St. Joseph in Canada.       

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[1] Diocese of Hamilton Sacramental Guidelines The Initiation of Children. http://hamiltondiocese.com/uploads/links/331-331-SACRAMENTAL%20GUIDELINES%20-%20Complete%20Electronic%20Version.pdf

Hope, Historical Perspective and "Sunny Ways"

As we face continuing low oil prices, a low dollar, rising food costs, and increased use of local Food Banks, hope, especially in Alberta, is low. Towards the end of January 2016 prices were especially low. Gloom and doom were almost tangible as we heard of more and more layoffs in the oil patch and in related industries.  There was a bad joke going around; even the comedian, who shared it, said it was bad. Then, the price of a barrel of oil was around $21 a barrel and cauliflower was seven dollars a head. The joke went like this: “Hey, did you hear the news? You can get three heads of cauliflower for a barrel of oil.” That joke described how bad things were. People were feeling down and depressed. Most people knew someone, a family member or friend, who was out of work or took a cut in pay and worked longer hours to keep their job. Some people were feeling hopeless. Media was playing a part too, day after day, by stating this was the lowest price for oil or the dollar since 2002, 2008 etc. Most reports were negative and in my opinion fostered even more gloom and doom. About this time the former Premier of Alberta, Don Getty, died; reports were that during his tenure oil prices were even lower than those we have just experienced. Premier Getty’s government rode out that bust and we went on to experience several more booms and busts in Alberta.

This got me thinking about historical perspective. If we know our history we can better deal with booms and busts. Depression, anxiety and fear paralyze. Those who know the past can better deal with the economic ups and downs of global economics. They can see the patterns and responses of the past and respond accordingly. They have hope and hope helps turn things around; it does not depress as do repeated gloom and doom scenarios. Constant negativity begets more negativity. A positive attitude even in the midst of difficult economic times can make a difference. I think of Sir Wilfred Laurier’s “sunny ways" that Prime Minister Trudeau has adopted. These “sunny ways”, not pollyanna ways, do foster hope. When we put things in perspective we can usually find hope and a positive way to move forward. Things may get worse especially as EI programs run down. However, recently we have seen oil prices and the dollar go up. As Christians prepare to celebrate the Paschal Mystery and the great feast of hope, the Resurrection of Jesus, we focus on hope in Jesus who through his passion, death and resurrection has overcome the power of sin and death. We look forward in joyful hope trusting that “all will be well” as we do our best in these difficult times and trust in the resiliency that is part of our humanity.

Lynn Rouleau, CSJ

I Saw a Cross Upon a Hill : A Donkey's Tale

Are you enamoured by my cousins, Eeyore, that loveable donkey from the tales of Winnie the Pooh or is your style more a moviegoer’s favourite, tough guy, Donkey, Shrek’s talkative sidekick?  Do you sometimes find yourself humming that delightful Donkey Serenade, keeping company with a mule?  Such light hearted fun; but let’s put aside talk of my fictitious cousins.  Since truth is often stranger than fiction, let me tell you a little about myself, my humble self whom Chesterton once described in his humourous little poem as one:

With monstrous head and sickening cry,
And ears like errant wings,
The devil’s walking parody
Of all four-footed things.

But let me back track a little. About thirty three years ago, as legend has it, a humble little burro was chosen to carry pregnant Mary to Bethlehem to give birth to her Child. Did this not foreshadow the day I would be chosen to carry her Son into Jerusalem?  I will never forget that day! How could I forget our humble God enthroned upon my back?  I carried him that day, cautiously weaving through the cheering crowds, when all at once ‘There was a shout about my ears, and palms before my feet.’

His mission almost finished, I heard him warn his disciples that He would soon be put to death. Put to death, how could that be?  Surely, I had gotten it all wrong! 

I’m just a donkey, just the ‘devil’s walking-parody on all four footed things.’  Perhaps that’s all you think I am. However, when a distant rumble, ‘Crucify him’, pierced my ears, I stood and shuddered.   In the distance I saw a cross upon a hill and wished I could have carried it for him. 

No ludicrous buffoon am I.  No donkey ever was. You see, because I carried the King, donkeys, generations after me, bear a cross upon their backs.  May you, my friend, I beg you, think twice before you call someone an ass – for she or he, too, bears the divine.

Guest blogger Sr. Magdalena Vogt, Missionary Sisters of the Precious Blood

                The Donkey

When fishes flew and forests walked,
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood,
Then surely I was born.

With monstrous head and sickening cry,
And ears like errant wings,
The devil’s walking parody
Of all four-footed things.

The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient, crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.

Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.

         C. K. Chesterton

WHAT IF . . .

Remember the occasion in sacred scripture where we read that the scribes and Pharisees were plotting to test Jesus so that they could have some “charge to bring against him”? We recently read the story of a woman caught in adultery and is made to stand before Jesus while she is  scorned by her accusers. These men claim that she was “caught in the very act of committing adultery” and according to the law of Moses should be stoned. What did Jesus have to say about this? We know that Jesus did not speak but “bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground.” (Jn. 8: 1-11)

What if, the scribes and pharisees who claimed that the woman was “caught in the very act of committing adultery” had plotted together ahead of time so that there could be no question of the woman’s innocence. What if, in plotting together their careful plan, they had stooped down  and drawn their plan on the ground. Then, when Jesus bent down and began drawing on the ground, what if, they recognized their own guilty involvement in the crime as they had plotted it. 

I’ve always wondered why the scribes and Pharisees “went away, one by one, beginning with the elders”. My imagination says, “No wonder they left speechless unwilling to throw the first stone.” 

Elaine Cole, CSJ

She descended into hell – in thirty years, she rose from the dead.

Today was different. You could see it in her eyes.

This was about the fifth of our sessions on the women’s unit at the jail on healing life’s hurts. Julie had spent the last 30 years in and out of jail. Until today, Julie was the joker in the group, making everyone laugh, coming out with the one-liners, no matter how serious the topic.

But not today. 

She walked in, turned her chair so that her back was toward us, and she said she was ready.

Dead silence. 

And then, in a slow, keening wail - she started. “He was two.  His name was Joey. I loved him so much.”

Haltingly, between huge sobs and gulps of breath, she shared that when she came home from work that day, she ran in as always, and hugged and kissed him and told him how much she missed him. She had been to the drycleaners on her way home, so she hung up her newly cleaned jacket, and went to get a cup of coffee. Her younger sister had been babysitting him while she was at work.

It was her sister who came in to the kitchen to tell her – Joey was not breathing.

After racing to his room, the awful realization immediately sunk in – Joey was dead!

He had suffocated on the plastic bag from the drycleaners which Julie had casually thrown on the bed.

In an instant, her life changed.  From that moment on, she said, nothing else mattered. She had killed her own son – she couldn’t get it out of her mind – ever!  The torture was more than she could bear. The only time she could ever forget, even momentarily, was when she was blitzed out on alcohol.

And then she discovered drugs – even better!  It lasted longer.  And so began her 30 year descent – in and out of jail – in and out of reality.  She didn’t care – there was no reason to live anyway.  She had never, ever told a single soul what had happened that day. She never, ever talked about it.

Until today. She cried loud, heaving sobs and all the other inmates cried with her.  They held her in loving, understanding silence. 

Julie was released from jail shortly after that – she has never returned. That was three years ago.  I’m rooting for you, Julie.  Happy Easter

Irene Baker, CSJ