For the closing Mass at the Vicariate of Francistown Youth Rally - July 12, 2012 This Mass was accompanied by one of Francistown's seminarians receiving the Ministries of Reader and Acolyte, so the Bishop asked me to talk about vocation.
When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up? A doctor? Teacher? Police office? President? I never wanted to be a priest. My dream was to be an astronaught and to go into space (which is probably why I love the night sky here in Botswana - I can see the stars). When I got older, I wanted to work in theater and before I entered the seminary, I wanted to be a social worker. Those were my plans, but obviously God had something else in mind.
Today we hear about the prophet, Amos. The priest of Bethel, Amaziah, is complaining against Amos and his prophecies, and so he is telling Amos to leave; to go somewhere else. But Amos replies that he is there because God wants him to be. Amos explains that he was only a herdsman, a farmer tending sheep. But the Lord took him from the flock and said, "Go." So Amos went. Where is the Lord calling you to go? What is God calling you to do?
Today we are privileged to see our brother, Gaone, installed into the Ministries of Reader and Acolyte. This is another step on the journey to priesthood and an important reminder that the duty of the priest, and indeed all of us, is to serve. A lot of people today think that the youth don't care. That you are superficial. I don't think that's true. I think the youth care very much. I think you are trying to find your faith in God in a culture that doesn't support you. I think you are trying to understand the Gospel among people who refuse to hear it. That isn't easy. But that is why you must make the difference NOW. TODAY. You must pave the road for the youth who are coming after you. That is a huge responsibility, but it isn't impossible.
The second reading from Ephesians told us this: "For he has made known to us in all wisdom and insight the mystery of his will, according to his purpose for which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, in heaven and on earth." Christ has already cleared the path. Now you must help tar the road. One of the best ways you can do that is to model right behavior and good choices. Many of you have younger brothers and sisters or cousins. They are watching you. They are learning from you. Teach them to make good choices; to do the right thing. And that goes for you parents also. Your children may be influenced by culture, but they learn from YOU how to deal with those influences. Be wise and good teachers.
I also think the youth today want to make a difference. I think you want to have a meaningful life. Not just one where you make lots of money or become famous or have lots of things. I think you sincerely want to help others. And although you want to be successful, the world out there says something different about success, doesn't it? I hope you know better. I hope you know that you can have no clothes, no food, no home, no money, no cell phone or computer, but still have everything, for if you carry the joy of God in your heart, you will want for nothing.
Today I challenge all of you - young and old, man and woman, girl and boy - to have the courage to ask God, "Where shall I go? What would you have me do, Lord?" Your Church needs priests. Your Church needs brothers and sisters in religious life. Your Church needs caring mothers and fathers, loving husbands and wives, and chaste single people. Your Church needs you to be who you were born to be.
When you were little, what were your dreams? What did you want to do? Where are you going now? *When God decided to make a countless nation, he chose a man with a low sperm-count and a post-menopausal woman. When God chose a leader to proclaim freedom and lead the people to the promised lnd, he chose the man with a lisp. When God wanted to slay the giant, he chose the small boy with a sling-shot. And when God chose to be born of a human, he chose young, unmarried peasant girl, who was a virgin.* And so God has chosen you. Not because of your perfection, but because you are wonderfully imperfect. Not because of what you may do, but because of what you can. Not because of who you might be, but because of you who you are right now. Amos was a herder, Peter was a fisherman, Matthew was a tax collector. Be brave. Dare to answer God's call. I can't promise you it will be easy, but I think I can promise that you will know joy.
When the Lord called Jeremiah he said, "Lord, behold, I do not know how to speak, for I am only a youth." But the Lord answered him, "Do not say 'I am only a youth' for to all whom I send you, you shall go, and whatever I command you, you shall speak. Be not afraid, for I am with you." AMEN.
*This portion was taken from a reflection written by Fr. Mike Miller of St. Patrick's Seminary*
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
"Other duties as assigned..."
I remember when I worked for the Legislature and for the Supreme Court in Carson City, and how nice it was to have a regular day...the schedule was set and VERY rarely deviated. My duties and expectations were set and also rarely deviated. Ministry here in Francistown is anything but.
Last Monday, was a day of remembering the dead. We left Francistown very early in the morning and went out to a village called Matangwane (I think that's how it is spelled). We went to celebrate Mass and then bless a new tombstone. The graveyard was quite interesting...You could see the disparity between those who could afford tombstones and those who could not. The tombstone we blessed was quite elaborate and I'm sure very costly. It was marble and it was huge! But as it as for the patriarch of the family, I am sure it was quite fitting. The "middle-class" graves were covered by a metal cage which outlined the casket. On the front of the cage was a plaque with the name of the deceased. Many had hung flowers on them or pictures. There was something actually quite nice about their simplicity. The "lower-class" graves were simply mounds of concrete. No information on them, no flowers, nothing. Fr. Sylvester called them "pauper graves" because the families could not afford the funeral and burial expenses. Even in death, no one can escape money problems. After the blessing, we went back to the house for a huge feast. I have not seen that much food in a while. One of the Batswana delicacies is a type of smashed meat called seswa (not sure if that's the spelling). It's made either with beef or goat. I really enjoy the goat! I tried a little of everything, and one of the older ladies sitting behind me marvelled at my eating their traditional food. Everything was delicious. Afterwards, I was invited to sit with the Uncles (the elder men) and drink Chibuku, which is the Batswana beer. It is made from fermented sorghum. As I sat down and they passed me the carton, I could feel every eye on me. I told myself that no matter what I thought, I would have to say I liked it....but I actually did like it! It wasn't very strong or bitter. I wound up taking 3 or 4 sips, which brought a round of cheering and laughing. They gave me thumbs up and patted me on the back...I had become a Batswana man LOL.
After we returned to Francistown, Father informed me that we were going to another memorial Mass that evening for a young man who had died, for which he asked me to prepare a reflection. This one made me nervous...with emotions raw, I worried I would not say the "right thing." I prepared a very short reflection, which I shared from memory, rather than wrote. When I saw the mother's face, she was shaking her head...I thought I had upset or offended her. After the Mass, she approached me, and I thought I was in trouble. She hugged me and told me that she had needed the words I said - they consoled her.
Then came Thursday, a day to celebrate new life. That morning, Fr. Sylvester and I drove to another village to celebrate a baptism. Again, Fr. Sylvester asked me to prepare the reflection, another first for me (the other being the first time I preached at a memorial). The baby was so beautiful. Her name is Landra. The mother let me hold her and she immediately fell asleep in my arms, holding the cross around my neck in her hand (I told her mom that it was a sign Landra was destined for religious life - to which she promptly replied "AMEN!"). We set up the altar right on the porch of the house and celebrated the Mass and Baptism right there. It reminded me of why the Church is the people and not the building - a church building is certainly sacred and an important part of our worship, but it is in the community that gathers that Christ is found...not confined to 4 walls. It was a truly beautiful moment, and I thanked God for the opportunity to be there that wonderful day.
Both of these experiences, new life and death, made me reflect on what ministry is. It is about journeying with God's people in whatever way I can. We are all called to this ministry - to be present to those around us, to walk with them, to love them. St. Francis of Assisi always prayed that God make him a channel of peace...what more could you want to be?
Last Monday, was a day of remembering the dead. We left Francistown very early in the morning and went out to a village called Matangwane (I think that's how it is spelled). We went to celebrate Mass and then bless a new tombstone. The graveyard was quite interesting...You could see the disparity between those who could afford tombstones and those who could not. The tombstone we blessed was quite elaborate and I'm sure very costly. It was marble and it was huge! But as it as for the patriarch of the family, I am sure it was quite fitting. The "middle-class" graves were covered by a metal cage which outlined the casket. On the front of the cage was a plaque with the name of the deceased. Many had hung flowers on them or pictures. There was something actually quite nice about their simplicity. The "lower-class" graves were simply mounds of concrete. No information on them, no flowers, nothing. Fr. Sylvester called them "pauper graves" because the families could not afford the funeral and burial expenses. Even in death, no one can escape money problems. After the blessing, we went back to the house for a huge feast. I have not seen that much food in a while. One of the Batswana delicacies is a type of smashed meat called seswa (not sure if that's the spelling). It's made either with beef or goat. I really enjoy the goat! I tried a little of everything, and one of the older ladies sitting behind me marvelled at my eating their traditional food. Everything was delicious. Afterwards, I was invited to sit with the Uncles (the elder men) and drink Chibuku, which is the Batswana beer. It is made from fermented sorghum. As I sat down and they passed me the carton, I could feel every eye on me. I told myself that no matter what I thought, I would have to say I liked it....but I actually did like it! It wasn't very strong or bitter. I wound up taking 3 or 4 sips, which brought a round of cheering and laughing. They gave me thumbs up and patted me on the back...I had become a Batswana man LOL.
After we returned to Francistown, Father informed me that we were going to another memorial Mass that evening for a young man who had died, for which he asked me to prepare a reflection. This one made me nervous...with emotions raw, I worried I would not say the "right thing." I prepared a very short reflection, which I shared from memory, rather than wrote. When I saw the mother's face, she was shaking her head...I thought I had upset or offended her. After the Mass, she approached me, and I thought I was in trouble. She hugged me and told me that she had needed the words I said - they consoled her.
Then came Thursday, a day to celebrate new life. That morning, Fr. Sylvester and I drove to another village to celebrate a baptism. Again, Fr. Sylvester asked me to prepare the reflection, another first for me (the other being the first time I preached at a memorial). The baby was so beautiful. Her name is Landra. The mother let me hold her and she immediately fell asleep in my arms, holding the cross around my neck in her hand (I told her mom that it was a sign Landra was destined for religious life - to which she promptly replied "AMEN!"). We set up the altar right on the porch of the house and celebrated the Mass and Baptism right there. It reminded me of why the Church is the people and not the building - a church building is certainly sacred and an important part of our worship, but it is in the community that gathers that Christ is found...not confined to 4 walls. It was a truly beautiful moment, and I thanked God for the opportunity to be there that wonderful day.
Both of these experiences, new life and death, made me reflect on what ministry is. It is about journeying with God's people in whatever way I can. We are all called to this ministry - to be present to those around us, to walk with them, to love them. St. Francis of Assisi always prayed that God make him a channel of peace...what more could you want to be?
Two weeks to go...
In 2 weeks from today, I'll be on my way home...I can hardly believe it. When I stepped off the plane in Francistown on June 12, I thought 2 months would never go by. It's a bitter-sweet thought, really. I can't wait to be home with my family and friends and see the mountains...but I will VERY much miss Francistown. The people here have literally welcomed me with open arms. In today's Gospel reading, Jesus talked about who his family is...the people here have made me part of their family. They've not only welcomed me into their church, but into their homes and hearts as well. I will miss them terribly, but I also know I will come back one day.
I hope anyone reading this will seriously consider coming here to Botswana...not just to visit, but to have their own missionary experience. The harvest is ripe here, and the people waiting for someone to reach out to them. I hope I have opened a door for others...I promise that if you come with an open heart and an open mind, you will have an experience you will not soon forget. Think about it...pray about it. As Sr. Maria in Reno told me, Botswana called my heart...is it calling yours?
I hope anyone reading this will seriously consider coming here to Botswana...not just to visit, but to have their own missionary experience. The harvest is ripe here, and the people waiting for someone to reach out to them. I hope I have opened a door for others...I promise that if you come with an open heart and an open mind, you will have an experience you will not soon forget. Think about it...pray about it. As Sr. Maria in Reno told me, Botswana called my heart...is it calling yours?
Friday, July 20, 2012
A Re Rapeleng...Let Us Pray
A few weeks ago, my aunt sent me this poem by Ellen Seusy:
THIS CHURCH, WING OF LIGHT OUTSTRETCHED OVER STREETS AND TOWNS,
THIS CHURCH EXTENDS BEYOND ITS WALLS, ITS ROLL OF MEMBERS, MEETING TIMES, TO SHELTER AND GUIDE ALL WHO'VE EVER ENTERED,
ALL WHO MIGHT DRIVE BY,
ANYONE WHOSE THOUGHT IS TOUCHED, UPLIFTED
WITHOUT EVEN KNOWING WHY.
One of the things I have loved doing here in Francistown is visiting the sick and homebound every week. Some are deaf or blind or both. Some are elderly and afflicted with pain. Some are young. But all can no longer bring themselves to the church, so the Church must come to them. A couple of weeks ago, Fr. Sylvester knocked on my door very early in the morning. He told me that Sister Wivine (who I accompany to visit the sick) was feeling ill herself and that I would need to visit the sick alone. He told me that he had asked one of the parishioners to lend me her car (since it is an automatic) and that one of the older ladies who also goes with Sister Wivine to visit the sick would go with me to give me directions. Of course I felt a little anxious. Not only would I be driving in a city I don't know (and on the opposite side of the road sitting on the opposite side of the car), but I would be taking communion to people whose language I can't speak. But ministry beckoned, and of course, I said it would be no problem.
Driving was a hoot. I was a little nervous at first because I had to keep remembering to turn onto the left side of the street, and I kept hitting the windshield wipers instead of the blinkers. Once I got a hang of the turns and the roundabouts, it actually was a pretty fun experience.
I expressed to the lady who was with me that I felt bad that I couldn't speak seTswana. She told me not to worry and to just do the services in English; the people would follow along as best as they could. That didn't sit right with me. For most of them, this is their only opportunity each week to pray in community and receive the sacraments. I couldn't help but feel I was robbing them of the experience by praying in English. As we pulled up to the first house, I made my decision: I would read the prayers in seTswana and do my best. My insecure self expected laughs or at least giggles at my attempt to pray in seTswana. There was nothing of the sort. Where I stumbled, the people helped me, and in the end, they smiled and thanked me. "Ke a leboga, rara. Thank you." The lady who went with me was so encouraging: "You are really trying. You are becoming a seTswana! That is wonderful!" she kept saying. Of course it would have been the same Jesus, the same sacrament, regardless of whether it was in English or seTswana. But somehow, it feels like it wouldn't have been prayer. It would have just been me speaking the words and them listening. Instead, we prayed together.
This experience made me think of the great debate of language in the US and how impatient we get with people who can't speak English. I thought of all the times I got annoyed because I couldn't understand someone or because I thought they were being inconsiderate and disrespectful by wanting to speak their native language. God hears all of our languages. God speaks to us in all of our languages. Whether we say God, or Modimo, or Dios, or Diyos, or Deus, we are all children calling to our one Father. How beautiful is that?! I am proud of my culture and my language, but I hope this experience has taught me to be patient and understanding. To be encouraging to those who are trying, just as they were patient and encouraging to me here. I'll be starting Spanish in the fall...with a renewed sense of why.
The Lord's Prayer in seTswana:
Rara wa rona yo o kwa legodimong
leina la gago a le itshepisiwe;
puso ya gago a e tle;
thato ya gago a e dirwe mo lefatsheng
jaaka kwa legodimong.
O re fe gompieno bogobe jwa rona jwa malatsi;
o re itshwarele dibe tsa rona
jaaka le rona re itshwarela ba ba re leofetsheng;
o se ka wa re isa mo thaelong
mme o re golole mo bosuleng. Amen!
Reflection #3 - Sunday, July 1, 2012
Taken from Mark 5:21-43 for the 10:00 AM seTswana Mass at Our Lady of the Desert
The line that struck me as I was reflecting on this Gospel was the line, “she had spent all she had, yet she was not helped but only grew worse.” There is another Gospel that uses almost the same line, but in a very different way. It is Matthew 13:44 which says “The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure buried in a field, which a person finds and hides again, and out of joy, goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.” In this parable, we see the man giving up all he has to gain heaven; whereas in today’s Gospel, we see this woman giving up all she has in order to save her earthly life, and only getting worse.
We humans don’t like death, do we? We never have. Nearly every culture on earth finds death an uncomfortable subject. Even those who can admit that will die can’t really imagine our own death. It’s something far away, isn’t it? I mean, I stand before you 25 years old, and although I know I will die, I hope it is in 60 to 70 years. But for all I know, it could be in 60 to 70 minutes! In the US, we despise aging and death. The average American woman spends $13,000 on make up in her lifetime. That’s about 91,000 Pula. On make up! Over $10 billion is spent each year on plastic surgery in the US. $10 billion! That’s almost 70 billion Pula each year on surgery to make us look younger or feel younger. But does it stop us from aging? Does it stop us from dying?
As technology has advanced, so has our feeling of invincibility. We feel powerful. And why shouldn’t we? We can save babies from previously deadly diseases. We can have a computer in the palm of our hand. We can send people into space. We can clone living beings. We can destroy entire cities with the push of a button. We are powerful. But we can’t stop this body from dying. Maybe that’s why we hate death so much; because it reminds us that we really aren’t all powerful. Even we humans have a limitation: death.
Both Jairus and the woman with the hemorrhage knew there was nothing they could do. They knew they were powerless to stop the sickness and death that was threatening them. They had to set aside all of their fear, all of their pain, all of their anxiety, and even all of their anger, and trust Jesus. They had to trust that this man had the power to do what no one else, even today in 2012, could do. And both were healed and made whole for their faith in God. The woman’s hemorrhage stopped at once, and Jairus’ daughter was brought back to life.
Does our dying mean that we don’t have faith in God? When bad things happen to us, when we are injured or afraid or when our lives are shaken, does it mean that it wasn’t because we didn’t have faith? I don’t think so. The woman with the hemorrhage died. Jairus died. The little girl died again. Jesus, the Son of God, died. Having faith doesn’t mean that somehow we won’t die or not have pain in our lives. What faith means is that we believe death is not the end. The first reading reminds us that God made all things to exist and says that since we are made in the image and likeness of God, we are to share in God’s eternal life. Our unloving and sinful choices are what brought death into this world, but God is still stronger, and even though one day we will take our last breath and depart this world, it will not be the end. It will be the beginning of something greater.
So don’t let the things of this world disturb you. By all means we must take care of ourselves and do what is necessary, and we certainly cannot neglect our responsibilities, but let us pray that we never exchange our trust in God for worry about the things of this world. For it is in letting go of these things that we can hold onto God. It is in dying that we are born to eternal life. AMEN.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Reflection #2 12th Saturday in Ordinary Time
(This was a short reflection for a communion service I presided over)
Taken from Matthew 8:5-17. For the 5:30 PM Communion Service at Our Lady of the Desert
There was once a group of people giving out soup and sandwiches to the poor outside of a Catholic center. Many people came forward to be fed, for they were very hungry. There was a woman standing on the side, watching the crowd of people, but she was afraid to approach and ask for food. One of the people serving noticed her and went over to offer he something to eat. The woman was very hungry, but she declined saying, "Thank you, but I'm not Catholic." The man smiled and answered her, "We won't refuse to feed you because you're not Catholic. We will feed you because we are Catholic."
I sometimes think, as Catholics and Christians, that we believe we have a monopoly on faith and maybe even goodness. If someone is not Catholic or Christian, we might be tempted to think they are less than us. After all, if they don't believe in Jesus, how can they be good people? It is an attitude I have seen too much.
Today, we see Jesus proclaim that this centurion has more faith than anyone in all of Israel. Jesus believed in the covenant. He believed that the Jewish people were special and that they were the chosen. And yet, it is a Roman, not only a foreigner, but a heathen, whom he declared has the greatest faith he has ever seen.
The centurion had authority. When he gave orders to other men, they obeyed without question. Jesus commands us to love each other. Are we following his order? We gossip about each other, we let pride get in our way, or selfishness, or greed. We judge others or we refuse to help someone because they've upset us. But we don't let that stop us from calling ourselves Christians, do we? Jesus says in today's Gospel what happens to those who say they have faith in God but do not live it: "They will be driven out into the outer darkness." Let that be none of us here. Let God say to us, "Well done my good and faithful servant. Enter now into your reward." AMEN.
Taken from Matthew 8:5-17. For the 5:30 PM Communion Service at Our Lady of the Desert
There was once a group of people giving out soup and sandwiches to the poor outside of a Catholic center. Many people came forward to be fed, for they were very hungry. There was a woman standing on the side, watching the crowd of people, but she was afraid to approach and ask for food. One of the people serving noticed her and went over to offer he something to eat. The woman was very hungry, but she declined saying, "Thank you, but I'm not Catholic." The man smiled and answered her, "We won't refuse to feed you because you're not Catholic. We will feed you because we are Catholic."
I sometimes think, as Catholics and Christians, that we believe we have a monopoly on faith and maybe even goodness. If someone is not Catholic or Christian, we might be tempted to think they are less than us. After all, if they don't believe in Jesus, how can they be good people? It is an attitude I have seen too much.
Today, we see Jesus proclaim that this centurion has more faith than anyone in all of Israel. Jesus believed in the covenant. He believed that the Jewish people were special and that they were the chosen. And yet, it is a Roman, not only a foreigner, but a heathen, whom he declared has the greatest faith he has ever seen.
The centurion had authority. When he gave orders to other men, they obeyed without question. Jesus commands us to love each other. Are we following his order? We gossip about each other, we let pride get in our way, or selfishness, or greed. We judge others or we refuse to help someone because they've upset us. But we don't let that stop us from calling ourselves Christians, do we? Jesus says in today's Gospel what happens to those who say they have faith in God but do not live it: "They will be driven out into the outer darkness." Let that be none of us here. Let God say to us, "Well done my good and faithful servant. Enter now into your reward." AMEN.
Who said I'll never have any children?
One of the things that has often been difficult for me as I've discerned priesthood is the thought that I would never be a parent. I love children, and I think I would make a good dad. I've made peace with that, but an experience I had a couple of weeks ago made me ask myself, "Who said I'll never have any children?"
I visited Our Lady of the Desert Primary School on their last day before winter vacation. Fr. Sylvester had an appointment, so he said that he would leave me to talk to the assembly myself. I was a bit nervous, but of course, I got up there and did some sharing. I talked about things I've already shared here on the blog: faith, family, priorities, etc., and I saw some of their heads nodding...that was a good sign. After the assembly was finished, the Headmistress asked me to dismiss the kids, so I did. Well, they came running up to me to shake my hand. One student gave me a hug...and before I knew it, they were ALL hugging me. I literally think I hugged about 80 students before the Headmistress pulled me out of the throng. After the assembly, I met with the faculty and they asked me to give them a blessing. It was a nice experience. Even the non-Catholic teachers seemed to appreciate it. One of the teachers asked me if I had a single brother she could marry...oy lol. The Headmistress then told me she had a meeting to attend and invited me to walk around the school and greet the kids.
As it was the last day of school, all the kids were busy helping to clean the grounds, mostly sweeping and picking up trash. As I approached the younger grades, they all dropped their brooms and brushes and dustpans and ran to me. They all wanted to take turn to hold my hand as I walked around the campus. It was like trying to walk with 100 sheep tied to your hands. They were pulling and laughing and screaming...it was overwhelming, but really fun :-) Eventually, one of the teachers told them to get back to their work, and I was left to run away while I still could lol.
I made my way over to the older student field and found them jumproping and playing soccer. They also congregated around me, and started asking me a lot of questions about the US. They also asked if they could touch my hair...they said it was so strange to them. It reminded me of that scene from Hook when the lost boys are touching the grown up Peter Pan's face, trying to recognize him. I asked (jokingly of course) if they would like to take some of my hair home, and they all started putting their hands out LOL. When Fr. Sylvester arrived to pick me up, he found half the school escorting me to the gate to meet him. My hair was a complete mess and my alb was covered in so many dusty handprints that it wasn't white anymore. He took one look at me, and with a smile asked, "So, how did it go?" Of course you know what I said..."Absolutely wonderful."
I am very lucky and blessed to have two such wonderful parents. I know many out there aren't as lucky. That day confirmed for me that there is a reason we call our priests "Father." I hope I can live up to that name, and more importantly, that if anyone is in need of love, they can find it in me. Just as I have.
Peace.
I visited Our Lady of the Desert Primary School on their last day before winter vacation. Fr. Sylvester had an appointment, so he said that he would leave me to talk to the assembly myself. I was a bit nervous, but of course, I got up there and did some sharing. I talked about things I've already shared here on the blog: faith, family, priorities, etc., and I saw some of their heads nodding...that was a good sign. After the assembly was finished, the Headmistress asked me to dismiss the kids, so I did. Well, they came running up to me to shake my hand. One student gave me a hug...and before I knew it, they were ALL hugging me. I literally think I hugged about 80 students before the Headmistress pulled me out of the throng. After the assembly, I met with the faculty and they asked me to give them a blessing. It was a nice experience. Even the non-Catholic teachers seemed to appreciate it. One of the teachers asked me if I had a single brother she could marry...oy lol. The Headmistress then told me she had a meeting to attend and invited me to walk around the school and greet the kids.
As it was the last day of school, all the kids were busy helping to clean the grounds, mostly sweeping and picking up trash. As I approached the younger grades, they all dropped their brooms and brushes and dustpans and ran to me. They all wanted to take turn to hold my hand as I walked around the campus. It was like trying to walk with 100 sheep tied to your hands. They were pulling and laughing and screaming...it was overwhelming, but really fun :-) Eventually, one of the teachers told them to get back to their work, and I was left to run away while I still could lol.
I made my way over to the older student field and found them jumproping and playing soccer. They also congregated around me, and started asking me a lot of questions about the US. They also asked if they could touch my hair...they said it was so strange to them. It reminded me of that scene from Hook when the lost boys are touching the grown up Peter Pan's face, trying to recognize him. I asked (jokingly of course) if they would like to take some of my hair home, and they all started putting their hands out LOL. When Fr. Sylvester arrived to pick me up, he found half the school escorting me to the gate to meet him. My hair was a complete mess and my alb was covered in so many dusty handprints that it wasn't white anymore. He took one look at me, and with a smile asked, "So, how did it go?" Of course you know what I said..."Absolutely wonderful."
I am very lucky and blessed to have two such wonderful parents. I know many out there aren't as lucky. That day confirmed for me that there is a reason we call our priests "Father." I hope I can live up to that name, and more importantly, that if anyone is in need of love, they can find it in me. Just as I have.
Peace.
M.I.A.
Hello everyone! Yes, I'm still alive. About an hour after I posted the last blog about the fourth of July, the computer went down...and has been for the last two weeks. It was just fixed about 2 hours ago, so I thought I should let you all know I'm doing ok :-)
It's been a busy couple of weeks, and some really nice things have happened, which I'm going to try and write about. I've also preached a few more times, so I'll post those homilies. I also lost all the pictures on my camera from the first month of my time here. I was really sad about that! The Bishop said he knows someone who can recover them, so I'm hoping that can happen. I also finally got to see some wildlife! I saw a herd of zebra and some giraffes grazing on the side of the highway and got some nice pictures of them (this was after I lost the pictures on my camera). I'm still waiting to see if I'll get to go on safari, but time is quickly getting away from me lol.
Anyhoo, I just wanted to let you all know why I've been missing for the last two weeks. I'll start posting now :-)
It's been a busy couple of weeks, and some really nice things have happened, which I'm going to try and write about. I've also preached a few more times, so I'll post those homilies. I also lost all the pictures on my camera from the first month of my time here. I was really sad about that! The Bishop said he knows someone who can recover them, so I'm hoping that can happen. I also finally got to see some wildlife! I saw a herd of zebra and some giraffes grazing on the side of the highway and got some nice pictures of them (this was after I lost the pictures on my camera). I'm still waiting to see if I'll get to go on safari, but time is quickly getting away from me lol.
Anyhoo, I just wanted to let you all know why I've been missing for the last two weeks. I'll start posting now :-)
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Happy 4th of July
(I meant to write this sooner, but the computer has been down :-)
Except for the two 4th of Julys when I had to work, I've never not be home for the 4th. It's always been a day spent with my family, and always at home in Victorian Square. It was strange for me to think that not only would I not be with my family for the 4th, but I wouldn't even be in the country.
I decided to share 4th of July with some of the people here. So I cooked hamburgers, potato salad, and we made root beer (which they call iron brew) floats. It was great fun! They kept saying "Wow, we are eating like Americans now!" (A couple also commented that they understand why Americans struggle with obesity lol.) None of them had heard the Star Spangled-Banner, and after attempting to sing it for them, I played Whitney Huston's version from the Super Bowl. It was beautiful. I'll admit I got a little emotional.
I've never been out of the US for this long, and this experience has taught me to appreciate being an American in a new way. I love the life here in Botswana: there is a great simplicity. Not because of poverty, but because of appreciation. The people here appreciate what they have, whether it is a lot or a little. They aren't always clamoring for the next and best. Just last night, a young man asked me about Thanksgiving and what the holiday is for. I explained it and he thought it was beautiful. He asked me if it has been commercialized, and unfortunately I had to say yes. We follow our day of giving thanks for what we have by spending all night in line at the store (and even trampling people) to buy electronics and clothes and God knows what else on Black Friday. I felt a little saddened. Don't misunderstand; people certainly want possessions. But they are detached from them.
More than appreciating what they have, I've noticed that the Batswana also have different priorities than many do in the US. Family is their most important commodity. I think many of us in the US (myself included) judge our lives by what we have. We always have to have just a little more, and then we'll be happy. But we aren't, are we? We buy one more thing, and then three more things, and then ten more things, and yet we're still just one more thing away from achieving that happiness we want so much. The Batswana find their happiness in their loved ones. When the people speak of their blessings, it is always their families and friends...not their things.
This experience of getting to come to Botswana has taught me to appreciate the blessing of my family. I know I can be a pain and that they can drive me crazy, but I have realized what a blessing each one of them is and how much I love them. Thank you Mom, Dad, Leslie, Auntie Linda and all my family. I've taken you for granted, and Botswana has helped me see that. I hope that isn't the case when I return.
The reading for Morning Prayer on the 4th came from the book of Tobit. It said this:
Do to no one what you yourself dislike. Give to the hungry some of your bread, and to the naked some of your clothing. Seek counsel from every wise man. At all times bless the Lord God, and ask him to make all your paths straight and to grant success to all your endeavors and plans.
Somehow, I thought this was apt for the 4th of July. A lot of people here pay attention to what is happening in the US. They ask me about the healthcare bill. They ask me about entertainers. They ask me about the Church. They know what is happening in the US. Let us pray that the US be an example and instrument of goodness in the world. Let us also pray that we have the wisdom as Americans to not believe we are perfect. There is a great deal for us to do in our great country. I long for the day that I see the same expression of bewilderment on American children's faces when they hear about homelessness as I saw here in Botswana two days ago (because like Fr. Sylvester, the Batswana youth didn't know what homelessness was).
We're always asking God to bless America. Today, I also ask God to bless all nations. Today I offer this song as my prayer:
My country’s skies are bluer than the ocean,
Except for the two 4th of Julys when I had to work, I've never not be home for the 4th. It's always been a day spent with my family, and always at home in Victorian Square. It was strange for me to think that not only would I not be with my family for the 4th, but I wouldn't even be in the country.
I decided to share 4th of July with some of the people here. So I cooked hamburgers, potato salad, and we made root beer (which they call iron brew) floats. It was great fun! They kept saying "Wow, we are eating like Americans now!" (A couple also commented that they understand why Americans struggle with obesity lol.) None of them had heard the Star Spangled-Banner, and after attempting to sing it for them, I played Whitney Huston's version from the Super Bowl. It was beautiful. I'll admit I got a little emotional.
I've never been out of the US for this long, and this experience has taught me to appreciate being an American in a new way. I love the life here in Botswana: there is a great simplicity. Not because of poverty, but because of appreciation. The people here appreciate what they have, whether it is a lot or a little. They aren't always clamoring for the next and best. Just last night, a young man asked me about Thanksgiving and what the holiday is for. I explained it and he thought it was beautiful. He asked me if it has been commercialized, and unfortunately I had to say yes. We follow our day of giving thanks for what we have by spending all night in line at the store (and even trampling people) to buy electronics and clothes and God knows what else on Black Friday. I felt a little saddened. Don't misunderstand; people certainly want possessions. But they are detached from them.
More than appreciating what they have, I've noticed that the Batswana also have different priorities than many do in the US. Family is their most important commodity. I think many of us in the US (myself included) judge our lives by what we have. We always have to have just a little more, and then we'll be happy. But we aren't, are we? We buy one more thing, and then three more things, and then ten more things, and yet we're still just one more thing away from achieving that happiness we want so much. The Batswana find their happiness in their loved ones. When the people speak of their blessings, it is always their families and friends...not their things.
This experience of getting to come to Botswana has taught me to appreciate the blessing of my family. I know I can be a pain and that they can drive me crazy, but I have realized what a blessing each one of them is and how much I love them. Thank you Mom, Dad, Leslie, Auntie Linda and all my family. I've taken you for granted, and Botswana has helped me see that. I hope that isn't the case when I return.
The reading for Morning Prayer on the 4th came from the book of Tobit. It said this:
Do to no one what you yourself dislike. Give to the hungry some of your bread, and to the naked some of your clothing. Seek counsel from every wise man. At all times bless the Lord God, and ask him to make all your paths straight and to grant success to all your endeavors and plans.
Somehow, I thought this was apt for the 4th of July. A lot of people here pay attention to what is happening in the US. They ask me about the healthcare bill. They ask me about entertainers. They ask me about the Church. They know what is happening in the US. Let us pray that the US be an example and instrument of goodness in the world. Let us also pray that we have the wisdom as Americans to not believe we are perfect. There is a great deal for us to do in our great country. I long for the day that I see the same expression of bewilderment on American children's faces when they hear about homelessness as I saw here in Botswana two days ago (because like Fr. Sylvester, the Batswana youth didn't know what homelessness was).
We're always asking God to bless America. Today, I also ask God to bless all nations. Today I offer this song as my prayer:
This is My Song by Lloyd Stone
This is my song, Oh God of all the nations,
A song of peace for lands afar and mine.
This is my home, the country where my heart is;
Here are my hopes, my dreams, my sacred shrine.
But other hearts in other lands are beating,
With hopes and dreams as true and high as mine.
My country’s skies are bluer than the ocean,
And sunlight beams on cloverleaf and pine.
But other lands have sunlight too and clover,
And skies are everywhere as blue as mine.
Oh hear my song, oh God of all the nations,
A song of peace for their land and for mine.
So May It Be.
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