Monday was spent traveling from Sydney to Brisbane. We were not part of a large, coordinated convey this time. There was just our group with a hired coach. It was a tourist class coach this time rather than a school bus; our bags traveled with us, the seats fit full-size adults, and there was a bathroom on the bus itself. Our American group was the only one making this trip, so not every seat was filled either.
We left the school in Sydney around 8:30 in the morning. I was surprised that the route between the largest and third largest city in the country was not covered by a major expressway. We traveled along lots of two-lane country roads, slowing as we passed through each small town. We stopped three times along the way. There were other busses headed from Sydney toward Brisbane, so the rest stops were a little chaotic since there was no attempt at spacing the busses out since they were all independent. We arrived in Brisbane shortly after midnight. The very generous families that are serving as our hosts this week were there waiting for us and wisked us away to real beds.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Vigil and Mass
All afternoon there were various speakers and performers keeping the gathering crowd entertained and inspired. At 7:00 the vigil service began. It was quite a thrill to see him in person. I did not need to look at the large screen, but could clearly see him with my own eyes up on the altar. There was a variety of songs and readings in multiple languages. There were 24 young people from around the world who had been selected to receive the Sacrament of Confirmation at mass on Sunday. They were each introduced. The Pope himself spoke at length in English. His English is clearly heavily accented with German, but not that hard to make out. It was a very scholarly talk, as befits one who spent most of his life in scholarly circles, first as a professor at universities and then as prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Fatih. I loved it. He dropped references to people from St. Augustine to St. Francis de Sales with frequency and ease. The main topic of his talk was the Holy Spirit. He focused a great deal on the Spirit’s relation with the other persons of the Trinity and the way that the gift of the Spirit draws us into the very life of God. I would love to have the text to re-read and study as I am sure that in trying to merely listen there was much that I missed. The time was concluded with a period of adoration of the Blessed Sacrament and Benediction. They had constructed a monstrance that must have been at least 6 feet across on the altar with an opening into which they inserted a regular size monstrance that was processed in. Again, I was close enough to see clearly the actual host in the center during the period of adoration.
Sunday morning there was Morning Prayer prayed at 8:00. It was the only significant disappointment of the event for me. They gathered a group of clerics and had them wearing black cassocks and white surplices sitting in the altar area. They began 5 minutes early and made no announcement inviting the pilgrims to participate, so most of them were busy eating breakfast, rolling up their sleeping bags, or chatting with others while the prayer was taking place. The Liturgy guides had the text of the psalms, but not the chant line – so unless you happened to know the particular chant tone they were using (and they used different ones for each psalm) there was no way to participate. It all looked very much like a performance and not the official public prayer of the entire Church. I was a little sad.
Mass itself began shortly after 10:00. A little after 9:00 the Pope arrived and began slowly making his way toward the altar in the Pope-mobile. That was really the first chance most of the crowd there had an opportunity to see him.
I was pleased that the experience of this Eucharist was for me much more like that in Melbourne at the Telstra Dome and less like the experience of the Opening Mass on Tuesday. That is to say, I felt connected and a part of it – like I was a part of a worshipping assembly gathered to celebrate Eucharist. There were a couple of moments that made me smile. The Pope read the penitential rite. The choir had planned to sing it. After a moment’s hesitation, for whatever reason, they went ahead and sang it anyway. Probably not a good choice on the conductor’s part, since it made the Pope look like he didn’t know what was going on! A smoother move would have been to skip ahead to the Gloria. Again, the homily was excellent. Again, I will need to get a copy of the full text to digest it completely. The 24 people who were confirmed showed forth such joy, as you might imagine. There is no doubt that they are going to remember the day of their Confirmation!
At the end of mass there were speaches. The Archbishop of Sydney thanked the Pope and all the pilgrims. It was a fitting conclusion. Then the head of the Pontifical Council on the Laity, the Vatican office in charge of planning World Youth Day, spoke far too long. He did not seem to have a sense of the occasion or place, and the fact that we had been standing there for well over 2 hours at that point. He went on and on in barely intelligible English. When he finally finished the Pope announced that WYD in 2011 will be in Madrid, Spain. While that was supposed to have been a secret, there were a group of Spanish pilgrims that had been gathered neared the foot of the altar already wearing T-shirts for the occasion, so I am guessing that it wasn’t much of a secret. I had heard rumors that it would be Madrid for over a week as well.
Finally, once the Mass was over, WYD was officially concluded. We still had several hundred thousand people to get out of the area. Given where we were, most of our group decided there was no need to rush off. They had some more entertainment. I did not start to leave until about 3:00. By then the crowds had thinnned considerably. A few people in our group left earlier, and they found themselves standing in place for 20 minutes at a time more than once.
In the end, it really was a well-done event.
Sunday morning there was Morning Prayer prayed at 8:00. It was the only significant disappointment of the event for me. They gathered a group of clerics and had them wearing black cassocks and white surplices sitting in the altar area. They began 5 minutes early and made no announcement inviting the pilgrims to participate, so most of them were busy eating breakfast, rolling up their sleeping bags, or chatting with others while the prayer was taking place. The Liturgy guides had the text of the psalms, but not the chant line – so unless you happened to know the particular chant tone they were using (and they used different ones for each psalm) there was no way to participate. It all looked very much like a performance and not the official public prayer of the entire Church. I was a little sad.
Mass itself began shortly after 10:00. A little after 9:00 the Pope arrived and began slowly making his way toward the altar in the Pope-mobile. That was really the first chance most of the crowd there had an opportunity to see him.
I was pleased that the experience of this Eucharist was for me much more like that in Melbourne at the Telstra Dome and less like the experience of the Opening Mass on Tuesday. That is to say, I felt connected and a part of it – like I was a part of a worshipping assembly gathered to celebrate Eucharist. There were a couple of moments that made me smile. The Pope read the penitential rite. The choir had planned to sing it. After a moment’s hesitation, for whatever reason, they went ahead and sang it anyway. Probably not a good choice on the conductor’s part, since it made the Pope look like he didn’t know what was going on! A smoother move would have been to skip ahead to the Gloria. Again, the homily was excellent. Again, I will need to get a copy of the full text to digest it completely. The 24 people who were confirmed showed forth such joy, as you might imagine. There is no doubt that they are going to remember the day of their Confirmation!
At the end of mass there were speaches. The Archbishop of Sydney thanked the Pope and all the pilgrims. It was a fitting conclusion. Then the head of the Pontifical Council on the Laity, the Vatican office in charge of planning World Youth Day, spoke far too long. He did not seem to have a sense of the occasion or place, and the fact that we had been standing there for well over 2 hours at that point. He went on and on in barely intelligible English. When he finally finished the Pope announced that WYD in 2011 will be in Madrid, Spain. While that was supposed to have been a secret, there were a group of Spanish pilgrims that had been gathered neared the foot of the altar already wearing T-shirts for the occasion, so I am guessing that it wasn’t much of a secret. I had heard rumors that it would be Madrid for over a week as well.
Finally, once the Mass was over, WYD was officially concluded. We still had several hundred thousand people to get out of the area. Given where we were, most of our group decided there was no need to rush off. They had some more entertainment. I did not start to leave until about 3:00. By then the crowds had thinnned considerably. A few people in our group left earlier, and they found themselves standing in place for 20 minutes at a time more than once.
In the end, it really was a well-done event.
A walking pilgrimage
As I believe I said before, an important part of the pilgrimage experience is the actual physical journey involved in getting there. Traditionally and historically this has involved walking. While, for obvious reasons, most WYD pilgrims cannot walk to the host city, a pilgrimage walk is still inclulded as a part of the experience. It also serves the practical purpose of gathering several hundred thousand people into one place. So, Saturday was dedicated to walking to Randwick Racecourse, the site of the overnight vigil and papal mass on Sunday. There were several official routes set up leading to the area, and streets were closed to accommodate the pilgrims. Our United States group split up into four, each taking slightly different routes. One group left very early, took the train into the downtown area and had a short walk. They had the goal of securing a spot for our group within the area reserved for us. One group walked directly from the school, eschewing all public transportation. Another group wanted a long walk and took the train to the end of one of the routes and walked a full 26km. I was in a group that took the train up to North Sydney. Our walk took us across the famous Harbor Bridge and into the central business district.
The crowds were not bad. There were plenty of people to be sure, but because of the multiple routes and people beginning at different times of the day we never experienced the human gridlock that had been a part of the walk on Tuesday. Not only was the walk pleasant and view tremendous, I was surpised at how much the experience touched me on a spiritual level. There were a few places set up along the way as prayer stations, and we also prayed other prayers as we went. I felt very connected with the tradition of pilgrimage and found it a very helpful preparation for the upcoming celebrations.
Once we arrived in the area people entered by various gates depening on what had been alloted them on their admission ticket. We had gate 14, section A, area 4. We had to walk down the full length of the racecourse on the east side to find gate 14 was the final gate. Once we entered we followed the signs and got slightly confused. It seemed that we were being directed toward what was labeled VIP entrance. The very helpful volunteers looked at our tickets and told us that we were headed correctly! A little further on and we discovered that we were about to enter a restricted area and had to go through a special security screening not unlike that at an airport (x-ray bags, walk through a metal detector). After than it was still a long walk until finally we found our area. The early group had done well. Within A4 they had the corner nearest the altar area. And A4 was literally the best section in the entire area. Just to our right, directly in front of the altar, were the chairs that were set up for the concelebrating priests. From where we were it was about 50 yards on a straight line up and to the right to the main altar. I could not believe how fortunate we were. It certainly more than made up for the poor seats for the Opening Mass!
The crowds were not bad. There were plenty of people to be sure, but because of the multiple routes and people beginning at different times of the day we never experienced the human gridlock that had been a part of the walk on Tuesday. Not only was the walk pleasant and view tremendous, I was surpised at how much the experience touched me on a spiritual level. There were a few places set up along the way as prayer stations, and we also prayed other prayers as we went. I felt very connected with the tradition of pilgrimage and found it a very helpful preparation for the upcoming celebrations.
Once we arrived in the area people entered by various gates depening on what had been alloted them on their admission ticket. We had gate 14, section A, area 4. We had to walk down the full length of the racecourse on the east side to find gate 14 was the final gate. Once we entered we followed the signs and got slightly confused. It seemed that we were being directed toward what was labeled VIP entrance. The very helpful volunteers looked at our tickets and told us that we were headed correctly! A little further on and we discovered that we were about to enter a restricted area and had to go through a special security screening not unlike that at an airport (x-ray bags, walk through a metal detector). After than it was still a long walk until finally we found our area. The early group had done well. Within A4 they had the corner nearest the altar area. And A4 was literally the best section in the entire area. Just to our right, directly in front of the altar, were the chairs that were set up for the concelebrating priests. From where we were it was about 50 yards on a straight line up and to the right to the main altar. I could not believe how fortunate we were. It certainly more than made up for the poor seats for the Opening Mass!
Songs of Passion
Just about every afternoon and evening there are “Youth Festival” events taking place throughout the greater Sydney area. They included forums and collquia, concerts and film screenings, visual arts exhibits, and more. On Wednesday evening the Passionist parish of St. Brigid hosted an event entitled, “Songs of Passion”. Each of the various Passionist pilgrim groups, supplemented by both the parish grade school and high school, presented songs and dances from their home countries around the theme of the Passion of Christ. The United States group aquitted itself well with two songs and provided the back-up singers for a Passionist priest from Melbourne who is also a song-writer.
Catholic Schools in Australia
The Catholic Education Office of Sydney hosted a reception for executives in Catholic education on Wednesday evening in conjuction with all the WYD activities. One of my bosses is the Superintendent of Catholic Schools for the Archdiocese of Galveston-Houston, so she had asked me to attend and represent her. She also wanted me to give her personal grettings to the director in Sydney with whom she had studied when they both were working on their doctorates. I had sent in my RSVP and received the information I needed, so Wednesday evening I was off to the reception.
I was a little surprised when I got there to discover that I was the only non-Australian who had responded affirmatively to the invitation! I had the chance to meet a whos-who of Australian Catholic education. The director of every diocesan office was there, as were the members of the national board. They were all very curious to see and speak to this Yank who was in their midst. All were very friendly, and all spoke of the impact WYD was having on their home dioceses. Many from outside Sydney said how much their people appreciated playing host to pilgrims during the Days in the Diocese that preceded the days in Sydney. One of the more touching stories involved a group of pilgrims from Africa who arrived by plane in Sydney knowing that they were supposed to go to Adelaide. They thought it was a suburb of Sydney and not the capital city of the state of South Australia, about 800 miles away. The good people of Adelaide took up a collection to get them there and back.
I was impressed with some of the old fashioned formality that it appears is still very much in style in Australia. At one point the head of the Sydney school board was invited to come and make a toast. He gave a couple of minute speech and then said, “I bid you all, charge your glasses if that be necessary.” He paused for a moment for people to make sure they had something with which to toast and then, raising his own glass said, “To Catholic education everywhere.” Everyone in the room responded by raising their glasses and repeating, “To Catholic Education everywhere!” They then drank. There was no clinking of glasses as in the United States. It reminded me of something from out of a movie.
I heard a very interesting story while I was at the reception. While I was speaking with one gentleman I asked him how it was that Catholic Schools in Australia came to receive government funding. He told me that it had not always been that way, but was something that began only 40 years ago. The story goes that Catholic schools were struggling financially in a very deep way in the mid to late 60s. The departure of many women religious who had been essentially a free teaching force put a great strain on things. There was one diocese in particular in which there was a school whose bathroom did not pass the state health inspection. The state told them they needed to upgrade the bathroom, but the diocese said that they did not have the funds to do so. The state threatened to close the school as a result. The bishop then decided that he was going to close every Catholic school in the entire diocese and send a letter home to all the parents telling them to present their children to the nearest state school for enrollment. The state schools of course paniced, knowing that they did not have near the resources necessary to accept such a sudden influx of students. The state approached the bishop and asked him to reconsider his decision to close all Catholic schools. From the negotiations that followed state funding of Catholic schools began. That first year the Catholic schools received a state grant of $12 per elementary student and $18 per high school student. Today in the state of New South Wales the Catholic schools receive a state grant of $6500 per elementary student and $8000 per high school student. This state funding accounts for 85% of the budget for the Catholic Schools.
All-in-all it was a very interesting evening.
I was a little surprised when I got there to discover that I was the only non-Australian who had responded affirmatively to the invitation! I had the chance to meet a whos-who of Australian Catholic education. The director of every diocesan office was there, as were the members of the national board. They were all very curious to see and speak to this Yank who was in their midst. All were very friendly, and all spoke of the impact WYD was having on their home dioceses. Many from outside Sydney said how much their people appreciated playing host to pilgrims during the Days in the Diocese that preceded the days in Sydney. One of the more touching stories involved a group of pilgrims from Africa who arrived by plane in Sydney knowing that they were supposed to go to Adelaide. They thought it was a suburb of Sydney and not the capital city of the state of South Australia, about 800 miles away. The good people of Adelaide took up a collection to get them there and back.
I was impressed with some of the old fashioned formality that it appears is still very much in style in Australia. At one point the head of the Sydney school board was invited to come and make a toast. He gave a couple of minute speech and then said, “I bid you all, charge your glasses if that be necessary.” He paused for a moment for people to make sure they had something with which to toast and then, raising his own glass said, “To Catholic education everywhere.” Everyone in the room responded by raising their glasses and repeating, “To Catholic Education everywhere!” They then drank. There was no clinking of glasses as in the United States. It reminded me of something from out of a movie.
I heard a very interesting story while I was at the reception. While I was speaking with one gentleman I asked him how it was that Catholic Schools in Australia came to receive government funding. He told me that it had not always been that way, but was something that began only 40 years ago. The story goes that Catholic schools were struggling financially in a very deep way in the mid to late 60s. The departure of many women religious who had been essentially a free teaching force put a great strain on things. There was one diocese in particular in which there was a school whose bathroom did not pass the state health inspection. The state told them they needed to upgrade the bathroom, but the diocese said that they did not have the funds to do so. The state threatened to close the school as a result. The bishop then decided that he was going to close every Catholic school in the entire diocese and send a letter home to all the parents telling them to present their children to the nearest state school for enrollment. The state schools of course paniced, knowing that they did not have near the resources necessary to accept such a sudden influx of students. The state approached the bishop and asked him to reconsider his decision to close all Catholic schools. From the negotiations that followed state funding of Catholic schools began. That first year the Catholic schools received a state grant of $12 per elementary student and $18 per high school student. Today in the state of New South Wales the Catholic schools receive a state grant of $6500 per elementary student and $8000 per high school student. This state funding accounts for 85% of the budget for the Catholic Schools.
All-in-all it was a very interesting evening.
Catechesis
At the heart of WYD activities lies the daily catechesis sessions held throughout the city. The word catechesis comes from a Greek word meaning “to echo” and the early Christian community adopted it to describe the process of passing on the Christian faith. In our Catholic tradiition, the chief catechists are supposed to be the bishops. Unfortunately, in day-to-day activities most bishops have very little time to spend in that kind of direct teching and faith formation. So, it was with great excitement that I looked forward to these catechetical sessions that are led by the bishops themselves.
Catechesis was held every morning from Wednesday through Friday. The schedule was the same each day: songs and prayers to open the day for about a half hour, a half hour of teaching by the bishop, forty-five minutes for questions and answers with the bishop, a short break, and daily mass presided over by the bishop. There were themes selected for each day, taken from the overall theme of this WYD, “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses.” Wednesday the focus was on life in the Holy Spirit, Thursday was centered on the belief that the Holy Spirit is the Soul of the Church. Finally, Friday was to conclude with the topic of the Holy Spirit as the principal agent of mission.
These catechesis sessions took place in dozens of locations throughout the city in multiple languages. It happened that the parish church on the complex where we were staying was an English site, so we did not have far to go in the morning! All of the people staying at the two schools were there, as were many other people – a total of about 800 pilgrims. The three bishops that were assigned to our center were an auxiliary bishop from Detroit, the bishop of Canberra (the capital city of Australia), and an American cardinal now working in Rome at the Apostolic Penitentiary (the Vatican office that deals with issues of penance and indulgences).
The first bishop was fine, but not overly exciting. The tone he took was a little bit off, more suited for a talk to middle school students that the age group actually in front of him. The best part of the time with him was certainly the Q&A. Most people our age do not get a lot of face time with bishops. They generally come out to parishes once a year for Confirmation, and that is about it. So it was really a special opporunity for many of the pilgrims to get to ask their questions face to face and get an answer. Some of the questions came in relation to the talk, but some clearly were questions that had been bothering people for some time, so it was nice for them to get a chance to ask them.
The Australian bishop the second day was absolutely marvelous. He showed great command of the format, giving an exemplary talk modeling a wonderful understanding of catechesis. He did not resort to mere moral exhortations or pious platitudes. He took some real substantial parts of the faith and began to break them open. Speaking on the relationship between the Holy Spirit and the Church he used a powerful image. He said that those who look at the Church from the outside as non-believers see in the church only a corpse. That is because they see the body (made up of people) but not the soul – and a body without a soul is only a corspe. The soul of the Church is the Holy Spirit, and to see its enlivening power you have to look with eyes of faith. His homily during mass was also a model homily, taking our lives as we were experiencing them on this pilgrimage and breaking them open in light of the liturgy. It was wonderful.
Given that, the bishop on Friday was a bit of a dissapointment. He did not really directly address the topic he was supposed to. He spoke very slowly and quietly, without much seeming energy or passion. He tended to ramble, and his homily was nearly indistinguishable from his catechesis – both in length and content.
Overall, however, I felt the catechesis sessions to be very postive encounters. The overall organization of them seemed well thought out. I am grateful for them.
Catechesis was held every morning from Wednesday through Friday. The schedule was the same each day: songs and prayers to open the day for about a half hour, a half hour of teaching by the bishop, forty-five minutes for questions and answers with the bishop, a short break, and daily mass presided over by the bishop. There were themes selected for each day, taken from the overall theme of this WYD, “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses.” Wednesday the focus was on life in the Holy Spirit, Thursday was centered on the belief that the Holy Spirit is the Soul of the Church. Finally, Friday was to conclude with the topic of the Holy Spirit as the principal agent of mission.
These catechesis sessions took place in dozens of locations throughout the city in multiple languages. It happened that the parish church on the complex where we were staying was an English site, so we did not have far to go in the morning! All of the people staying at the two schools were there, as were many other people – a total of about 800 pilgrims. The three bishops that were assigned to our center were an auxiliary bishop from Detroit, the bishop of Canberra (the capital city of Australia), and an American cardinal now working in Rome at the Apostolic Penitentiary (the Vatican office that deals with issues of penance and indulgences).
The first bishop was fine, but not overly exciting. The tone he took was a little bit off, more suited for a talk to middle school students that the age group actually in front of him. The best part of the time with him was certainly the Q&A. Most people our age do not get a lot of face time with bishops. They generally come out to parishes once a year for Confirmation, and that is about it. So it was really a special opporunity for many of the pilgrims to get to ask their questions face to face and get an answer. Some of the questions came in relation to the talk, but some clearly were questions that had been bothering people for some time, so it was nice for them to get a chance to ask them.
The Australian bishop the second day was absolutely marvelous. He showed great command of the format, giving an exemplary talk modeling a wonderful understanding of catechesis. He did not resort to mere moral exhortations or pious platitudes. He took some real substantial parts of the faith and began to break them open. Speaking on the relationship between the Holy Spirit and the Church he used a powerful image. He said that those who look at the Church from the outside as non-believers see in the church only a corpse. That is because they see the body (made up of people) but not the soul – and a body without a soul is only a corspe. The soul of the Church is the Holy Spirit, and to see its enlivening power you have to look with eyes of faith. His homily during mass was also a model homily, taking our lives as we were experiencing them on this pilgrimage and breaking them open in light of the liturgy. It was wonderful.
Given that, the bishop on Friday was a bit of a dissapointment. He did not really directly address the topic he was supposed to. He spoke very slowly and quietly, without much seeming energy or passion. He tended to ramble, and his homily was nearly indistinguishable from his catechesis – both in length and content.
Overall, however, I felt the catechesis sessions to be very postive encounters. The overall organization of them seemed well thought out. I am grateful for them.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
World Youth Day officially begins
Tuesday morning got off to a bit of a rough start. At about 6:15 in the morning I was awakened by a long and sustained extremely high pitched sound. After a few seconds I heard theperson lying near me ask, "What is that!?!" We both got up and began to search around the room in the dark for its source. It seemed to be coming from inside the room, but we could not find it. More and more people were beginning to stir. Finally Erica woke and located its source, a malfunctioning travel alarm clock that was inside someone’s bag. She began hitting it, trying to get it to stop, and the sound fluctated but did not stop. Finally, another person took it from her and succeeeded in taking out the batteries, mercifully ending the noise that had gone on for at least three full minutes. By the time it finally ended, the only person in the room not awake was the owner of the clock, who did not move the entire time.
A little later in the morning, after we were up, dressed, and had eaten some breakfast things looked a little better. A group of us headed first toward the local post office, walking through the neighborhood to get there. It is quite an interesting neighborhood. It is quite mixed. We passed Greek stores and restaurants. The local Anglican church has mass in Mandarin Chinese. There are Vietnamese noodle shops right next to fish and chips stands. One of my favorite store names was "After-a-fashion recycled clothing store" The post office here in Australia is rather more full service than those in the States. It resembles a small Staples. In addition to selling stamps and dealing with shipping, they sell phones and phone cards, all sorts of office supplies, technology items like flash drives and external hard drives, and children’s books. The staff there was incredibly polite and patient with these clueless Americans.
From there we were off to the train and headed back toward High Park. Three of us took some time to tour the Barracks museum off the corner of the park. It is a wonderful little museum and we could have spent even more time there. It is, in its own words, a musem about itself. The building was originally constructed to serve as a convict barracks in the early nineteenth century. A few years after the transportation of convicts to Australia ended it became an immigration station for unattached women. They were permitted to live there while they sought suitable employement and a place to stay. Later, it became a home for elderly and poor women. It was converted to serve as a part of the court system. Finally, in the 1970s it became a museum. Different parts of the building are preserved in different stages of its history, to give a glimpse into each of the services it has rendered to Australia. One of the more interesting things I learned was that the transportation of convicts to New South Wales began in part because of the inability to send them to the American colonies following those colonies declaration of independence. I seem to have forgotten that part of our nation’s history that some of those coming to the new world did so as a result of criminal sentences!
We experienced the first major logistical snafu at noon on Tuesday. As a part of our pilgrim registration we had paid for several meals. We had been given meal tickets as a part of our packets on Sunday night. The books stated that lunch on Tuesday could be picked up in several locations. When we went to one of them, in Hyde Park, there was no place set up at all. After a few inquiries to some volunteers we learned that of all of the distribution locations mentioned in our books, only one was actually up and running for the day. It was not near us at all. We stopped at McDonalds. We met the rest of our American group by the Opera House at 1:00 to begin our walk to the site of the opening mass. Hundreds of thousands of pilgrims were headed in the same direction. Very patient volunteers directed us, but soon we were in the midst of a human gridlock. People generally seemd to keep in good cheer. It was fun to see the flags of so many different contries all around. Groups broke into spontaneous songs and cheers all over the place. While some in the group seemed to find the experience difficult, I was pleasantly surprised that I was more patient than I would have expected. It took us over and hour and a half to walk about a mile.
Once on site it was rather chaotic as well. This was the one food site that was open, and many in our group had not eaten at all. Food tickets had to be submitted in groups of six and packets of six meals were handed out. They stood in long lines awaiting food. At one point they were slowed when a bank of microwaves that were heating the meat pies that were a part of the meals broke down.
By about 4:00 we had all made our ways to the areas assigned to us. This was an outdoor venue. I am not sure what it normally is, but it seemed to be a huge paved open area. We were sent to an area well away from the stage. We were so far away, and there were towers with speakers throughout, tht the stage and altar were not visible whatsoever. There were large video screens set up, so that it what we were able to watch. The screen nearest us was in the oppostie direction of where the altar was actually located, so we spent the entire mass facing away from it!
I must admit that I was a little disappointed by the experience. While I had approached the mass at the Telstra dome in Melbourne with some trepidation and been pleasantly surprised, I had approched this mass with relatively high expectations and been let down. I did not feel as connected to the event and it was harder to feel like an active participant in the liturgy. The groups around us were not as attentive. While not openly disrespectful, there also was a constant low buzz of converstation with people still moving about. While we had been given liturgy aides in our packets, most of the people did not sing for most of the songs. It felt very much like we were watching a performance. That was quite disappointing. I was surpised at communion time. We had been told that there would be communion stations out in the crowds, and indeed there was. But they appeared so quickly, and we were so far away from the altar, that I had to conclude that either the host had been pre-consecrated at another mass, or they had been consecratred from afar, since there is no way they could have gotten to us from the altar. Also, no matter which was the case, they had clearly been consecrated in their plastic bags. The bag had been dropped into a ciborium, and the communion minister was reaching in through a hole that had been ripped in the bag.
Once mass was over, there was a concert. It was also time for us to try to collect our dinner. It was the same drill, submit tickets in groups of six. I was one of those who had this task and I headed out, the rest of the group staying put. It was quite a distance and by the time I got to the distribution site there was a tremendous crowd. There was not really a line, and as people received their food packets they had to fight they way back through the crowd to get out. As I eventually drew nearer, it looked to me like a scence I had seen on television in the 1980s of Soviet era Russia. People were crowded against a row of tables, holding out their tickets, in the hope that the poor frantic volunteers would choose to give them a precious food packet as one became available. It was over 2 hours standing in such madness before I was one of the lucky ones and could return to the group. They were quite happy to see me, not only because I had food but because they had begun to worry about what had become of me.
After eating we left the venue. What had been an hour and a half walk earlier in the day took less than 20 minutes. The trains were wonderfully efficient, and we even had a seat. We got back to the school a little after 10:00.
Catechesis sessions begin on Wednesday. I am looking forward to them.
A little later in the morning, after we were up, dressed, and had eaten some breakfast things looked a little better. A group of us headed first toward the local post office, walking through the neighborhood to get there. It is quite an interesting neighborhood. It is quite mixed. We passed Greek stores and restaurants. The local Anglican church has mass in Mandarin Chinese. There are Vietnamese noodle shops right next to fish and chips stands. One of my favorite store names was "After-a-fashion recycled clothing store" The post office here in Australia is rather more full service than those in the States. It resembles a small Staples. In addition to selling stamps and dealing with shipping, they sell phones and phone cards, all sorts of office supplies, technology items like flash drives and external hard drives, and children’s books. The staff there was incredibly polite and patient with these clueless Americans.
From there we were off to the train and headed back toward High Park. Three of us took some time to tour the Barracks museum off the corner of the park. It is a wonderful little museum and we could have spent even more time there. It is, in its own words, a musem about itself. The building was originally constructed to serve as a convict barracks in the early nineteenth century. A few years after the transportation of convicts to Australia ended it became an immigration station for unattached women. They were permitted to live there while they sought suitable employement and a place to stay. Later, it became a home for elderly and poor women. It was converted to serve as a part of the court system. Finally, in the 1970s it became a museum. Different parts of the building are preserved in different stages of its history, to give a glimpse into each of the services it has rendered to Australia. One of the more interesting things I learned was that the transportation of convicts to New South Wales began in part because of the inability to send them to the American colonies following those colonies declaration of independence. I seem to have forgotten that part of our nation’s history that some of those coming to the new world did so as a result of criminal sentences!
We experienced the first major logistical snafu at noon on Tuesday. As a part of our pilgrim registration we had paid for several meals. We had been given meal tickets as a part of our packets on Sunday night. The books stated that lunch on Tuesday could be picked up in several locations. When we went to one of them, in Hyde Park, there was no place set up at all. After a few inquiries to some volunteers we learned that of all of the distribution locations mentioned in our books, only one was actually up and running for the day. It was not near us at all. We stopped at McDonalds. We met the rest of our American group by the Opera House at 1:00 to begin our walk to the site of the opening mass. Hundreds of thousands of pilgrims were headed in the same direction. Very patient volunteers directed us, but soon we were in the midst of a human gridlock. People generally seemd to keep in good cheer. It was fun to see the flags of so many different contries all around. Groups broke into spontaneous songs and cheers all over the place. While some in the group seemed to find the experience difficult, I was pleasantly surprised that I was more patient than I would have expected. It took us over and hour and a half to walk about a mile.
Once on site it was rather chaotic as well. This was the one food site that was open, and many in our group had not eaten at all. Food tickets had to be submitted in groups of six and packets of six meals were handed out. They stood in long lines awaiting food. At one point they were slowed when a bank of microwaves that were heating the meat pies that were a part of the meals broke down.
By about 4:00 we had all made our ways to the areas assigned to us. This was an outdoor venue. I am not sure what it normally is, but it seemed to be a huge paved open area. We were sent to an area well away from the stage. We were so far away, and there were towers with speakers throughout, tht the stage and altar were not visible whatsoever. There were large video screens set up, so that it what we were able to watch. The screen nearest us was in the oppostie direction of where the altar was actually located, so we spent the entire mass facing away from it!
I must admit that I was a little disappointed by the experience. While I had approached the mass at the Telstra dome in Melbourne with some trepidation and been pleasantly surprised, I had approched this mass with relatively high expectations and been let down. I did not feel as connected to the event and it was harder to feel like an active participant in the liturgy. The groups around us were not as attentive. While not openly disrespectful, there also was a constant low buzz of converstation with people still moving about. While we had been given liturgy aides in our packets, most of the people did not sing for most of the songs. It felt very much like we were watching a performance. That was quite disappointing. I was surpised at communion time. We had been told that there would be communion stations out in the crowds, and indeed there was. But they appeared so quickly, and we were so far away from the altar, that I had to conclude that either the host had been pre-consecrated at another mass, or they had been consecratred from afar, since there is no way they could have gotten to us from the altar. Also, no matter which was the case, they had clearly been consecrated in their plastic bags. The bag had been dropped into a ciborium, and the communion minister was reaching in through a hole that had been ripped in the bag.
Once mass was over, there was a concert. It was also time for us to try to collect our dinner. It was the same drill, submit tickets in groups of six. I was one of those who had this task and I headed out, the rest of the group staying put. It was quite a distance and by the time I got to the distribution site there was a tremendous crowd. There was not really a line, and as people received their food packets they had to fight they way back through the crowd to get out. As I eventually drew nearer, it looked to me like a scence I had seen on television in the 1980s of Soviet era Russia. People were crowded against a row of tables, holding out their tickets, in the hope that the poor frantic volunteers would choose to give them a precious food packet as one became available. It was over 2 hours standing in such madness before I was one of the lucky ones and could return to the group. They were quite happy to see me, not only because I had food but because they had begun to worry about what had become of me.
After eating we left the venue. What had been an hour and a half walk earlier in the day took less than 20 minutes. The trains were wonderfully efficient, and we even had a seat. We got back to the school a little after 10:00.
Catechesis sessions begin on Wednesday. I am looking forward to them.
Day one in Sydney
We had a full day free in Sydney on Monday, as the official WYD events do not begin until Tuesday. We had been given our materials the previous evening, including all sorts of maps and helpful information for pilgrims, and our official WYD identity cards. These last are very helpful, as they get us free and unlimited use of the busses and trains in the greater Sydney area. This will be absolutely critical in the coming days, as events are spread throughout the area. Sydney has experience in making public transit work for great crowds as they did very well with the Olympics in 2000. The schools are on holiday here in New South Wales this week, and many other businesses and workers were encouraged to take holiday as well. They have added over 20,000 new buses and trains for the week as well.
A group of seven of us took the free morning to take a train down to Circular Quay, the main ferry terminal on Sydney harbor. It was quite the experience to step off the train and see the famous Harbor Bridge and Opera House right there. There could be no doubt that we were in Sydney. From there we caught a ferry to Baranga Zoo. We had been told that a ferry ride was a highlight of any visit to Sydney, and indeed it was. The views of the bridge, the opera house, and the city skyline were tremendous. At the zoo, we focused our attention on the animals that are uniquely Australian. We had good close up views of kangaroos, kioala bears, emus, wombats, echinas (spiny anteaters), and jaribus. It was all very well done and quite enjoyable. It helped me at least to begin to feel the uniqueness of the place in which we had gathered.
After a return trip by ferry to Circular Quay, we walked to one ofhte primary pilgrimage sites here in Sydney, the Cathedral. The current Cathedral is very impressive. Its construction proceeded in stages beginning in the middle of the twentieth century. Its bell towers were finally finished in 2000. As impressive as the building itself is, the thing that touched me the most is the history of the place. Not only is this cathedral the mother church of the oldest diocese in Australia, it was constructed on the site where the very first Catholic mass was celebrated in all of Australia. This is, quite literally, the place where Catholicism was born on this continent.
Within the cathedral itself there were two places to which I felt particularly drawn. The first was very near the door. It was a shrine set up in the memory of all those Australians who had died in service to their country in time of war. It featured a statue of s soldier lying on the ground. From the statue it was impossible to know if he was being depicted dead or asleep. The simplicty and elegence of the place added to its sublimecharacter. Knowing the history of Australia a little bit, and knowing the devasting losses that the country endured during the First World War, when the country itself was very young and new, added to it as well. I prayed there for some time, praying for all those who had died in any war, and praying that in the future God’s own gift of peace might come into our world and drive out the scourge of war.
The second place that tickled my religious imagination in a paticular way was the shrine to Blessed Mary Makillop. She is the first, and so far only, Australian ever to be beatified. What was particularly touching was her story itself. She worked tirelessly for those who were poor and uneducated. She endured the disapproval of the establishment, who did not want the Catholic underclass to be served in this way. For a time she even was excommunicated by a bishop who disagreed with the way in which she was pushing so hard. In time that excommunication was lifted, and by the time of her death early in the twentitieth century the community she founded was thriving, their apostolate was bearing much fruit, and she was widely regarded as a true Australian hero. While there I prayed that I might receive at least a portion of the passion for justice she showed, and the courage and perseverance to work for it.
Across the street from the Cathedral is Hyde Park. It has basically been taken over for WYD. There are booths and tents set up through the park. One of the official merchandise tents is there. Everything is very expensive. Commemerative T-shirts start at $25. One of the more unique elements is a mural being created under the sponsorship of Telstra, one of the major cell phone companies here in Australia. The huge canvas is on rollers, like a scroll. The outlines of the various figures have been premade and the sections numbered. Pilgrims areinvited to come and paint a small section. Essentially, it is a giant paint-by-numbers. Each day it is rolled out a little more. By the end ofWYD it should be completed. We spent a little time in the park. I could really begin to feel the energy of the place and the gathering of so many young people from around the world.
After a nice supper in a local restaurant we headed back to the school. For myself I was completely exhausted. I had not slept well in days. A hot shower and fresh clothes worked wonders. I was apparently the first to fall asleep in the room, lights still ablaze and people still moving about.
Such was my first full day in Sydney.
A group of seven of us took the free morning to take a train down to Circular Quay, the main ferry terminal on Sydney harbor. It was quite the experience to step off the train and see the famous Harbor Bridge and Opera House right there. There could be no doubt that we were in Sydney. From there we caught a ferry to Baranga Zoo. We had been told that a ferry ride was a highlight of any visit to Sydney, and indeed it was. The views of the bridge, the opera house, and the city skyline were tremendous. At the zoo, we focused our attention on the animals that are uniquely Australian. We had good close up views of kangaroos, kioala bears, emus, wombats, echinas (spiny anteaters), and jaribus. It was all very well done and quite enjoyable. It helped me at least to begin to feel the uniqueness of the place in which we had gathered.
After a return trip by ferry to Circular Quay, we walked to one ofhte primary pilgrimage sites here in Sydney, the Cathedral. The current Cathedral is very impressive. Its construction proceeded in stages beginning in the middle of the twentieth century. Its bell towers were finally finished in 2000. As impressive as the building itself is, the thing that touched me the most is the history of the place. Not only is this cathedral the mother church of the oldest diocese in Australia, it was constructed on the site where the very first Catholic mass was celebrated in all of Australia. This is, quite literally, the place where Catholicism was born on this continent.
Within the cathedral itself there were two places to which I felt particularly drawn. The first was very near the door. It was a shrine set up in the memory of all those Australians who had died in service to their country in time of war. It featured a statue of s soldier lying on the ground. From the statue it was impossible to know if he was being depicted dead or asleep. The simplicty and elegence of the place added to its sublimecharacter. Knowing the history of Australia a little bit, and knowing the devasting losses that the country endured during the First World War, when the country itself was very young and new, added to it as well. I prayed there for some time, praying for all those who had died in any war, and praying that in the future God’s own gift of peace might come into our world and drive out the scourge of war.
The second place that tickled my religious imagination in a paticular way was the shrine to Blessed Mary Makillop. She is the first, and so far only, Australian ever to be beatified. What was particularly touching was her story itself. She worked tirelessly for those who were poor and uneducated. She endured the disapproval of the establishment, who did not want the Catholic underclass to be served in this way. For a time she even was excommunicated by a bishop who disagreed with the way in which she was pushing so hard. In time that excommunication was lifted, and by the time of her death early in the twentitieth century the community she founded was thriving, their apostolate was bearing much fruit, and she was widely regarded as a true Australian hero. While there I prayed that I might receive at least a portion of the passion for justice she showed, and the courage and perseverance to work for it.
Across the street from the Cathedral is Hyde Park. It has basically been taken over for WYD. There are booths and tents set up through the park. One of the official merchandise tents is there. Everything is very expensive. Commemerative T-shirts start at $25. One of the more unique elements is a mural being created under the sponsorship of Telstra, one of the major cell phone companies here in Australia. The huge canvas is on rollers, like a scroll. The outlines of the various figures have been premade and the sections numbered. Pilgrims areinvited to come and paint a small section. Essentially, it is a giant paint-by-numbers. Each day it is rolled out a little more. By the end ofWYD it should be completed. We spent a little time in the park. I could really begin to feel the energy of the place and the gathering of so many young people from around the world.
After a nice supper in a local restaurant we headed back to the school. For myself I was completely exhausted. I had not slept well in days. A hot shower and fresh clothes worked wonders. I was apparently the first to fall asleep in the room, lights still ablaze and people still moving about.
Such was my first full day in Sydney.
Travel
The journey from Melbourne to Sydney may not have been all that long in terms of miles or kilometeres, but it surely was long in terms of the physical tool it took on us as pilgrims. I suppose that a part of being a pilgrim is supposed to be that the journey takes some real effort so that having achieved the end bears a cost worthy of the end desired. Still, that wonderful theological thought did not make the trip itself any easier.
I do have to commend the Days in the Diocese organizing group for the incredible logistical undertaking. We met at the school as I stated in the last post. There, we were joined by hundreds of other pilgrims who had spent time in and around Melbourne during those days. We were issued luggage tags for our bags, since they would not be able to travel on the same bus with us. These were eventually scanned and loaded into the back of a large moving truck. About 6:30 or so we were ushered to a bus. The side of it proudly proclaimed that belonged to St. Paul Episcopal Grammar School. It was certainily a step up from the traditional yellow school bus of the States, but not quite as comfortable as the tourist coaches that are common there. There was no bathroom on the bus. The distance between seats was more conducive to little children than to those of us who are more than 6 feet tall. I had a neck pillow with me, but it did little good since the backs of the seats ended several inches below my shoulder. By about 7:00 we were finally off. No seats were left empty as several other small groups and parts of small groups were added to ours from the States.
The stops along the way were all pre-scheduled. The organizing group had set up comfort stations in pre-determined locations. The first was at a horse track, the second at a sporting facility, and the third and final one at a dog track. Each of them had bathroom trailers brought in. These were something new to me, and in my opinion a step up from the rows of port-o-potties that one might see in the United States. These were bathrooms built into the sort of trailers that a large semi-truck could haul. One side was the women’s room and one side the men’s. It was still a little cramped, but there were real sinks with real water (albeit cold) as well as flush toilets. In each place there was also food kiosks set up. Finally, in all but the last, there were little booths set up by the local tourist groups, distributing brochures and selling little trinkets so that we at least had some sense of the places through which we werepassing. We finally arrived at the school in a suburb of Sydney that will be our home for the next week at 9:00 that evening.
The parish here met us with the same generosity of spirit that we had experienced in Melbourne. They had pizza and other food for us to welcome us. Unfortunately, my hope that our luggage might have beaten us to Sydney was not realized. It was closer to 11:30 before that happened. When it did arrive it was on several different moving vans, so clearly there had been a baggage transfer station somewhere along the way. Thankfully, no bags were misplaced and everyone received their luggage.
We are sleeping on the floors of classrooms here at the school. We do little else here but sleep. We have to leave the premises by 9:00am at which time the school is locked down. We cannot return until 7:00pm. We must be in by 11:00pm, at which time the school is locked down again. We have the use of the regular school bathrooms, which aren’t bad. There are also sinks in the classroom that make things a little easier. They had prepared for us by installing laundry lines in the rooom as well. The only somewhat dodgy element is the showers. They installed a temporary shower block that is quite literally encolsed in plywood. There are three shower heads in this temporary facility. The good news is that there is hot water. The bad news is that there are about 300 pilgrims staying here at the school. We have been alloted times. The men in our group can use the shower from 9:00-9:40 in the evening. The women are right after us, from 9:45-10:30. While some in our group initially were concerned with the shower itself, my primary concern is with those times. It seems to me that we will not always be here and free during those alloted times. If so, we will basically have to do without showers. We have three classrooms assigned to us. One is men only, one women only, and one mixed. Sunday night the two single sex rooms were full and the mixed room was about half full. Space being what it is these days; we came back Monday evening to discover that eight Italians, both men and women, had been added to fill up the room.
More on our first full day in Sydney in the next post.
I do have to commend the Days in the Diocese organizing group for the incredible logistical undertaking. We met at the school as I stated in the last post. There, we were joined by hundreds of other pilgrims who had spent time in and around Melbourne during those days. We were issued luggage tags for our bags, since they would not be able to travel on the same bus with us. These were eventually scanned and loaded into the back of a large moving truck. About 6:30 or so we were ushered to a bus. The side of it proudly proclaimed that belonged to St. Paul Episcopal Grammar School. It was certainily a step up from the traditional yellow school bus of the States, but not quite as comfortable as the tourist coaches that are common there. There was no bathroom on the bus. The distance between seats was more conducive to little children than to those of us who are more than 6 feet tall. I had a neck pillow with me, but it did little good since the backs of the seats ended several inches below my shoulder. By about 7:00 we were finally off. No seats were left empty as several other small groups and parts of small groups were added to ours from the States.
The stops along the way were all pre-scheduled. The organizing group had set up comfort stations in pre-determined locations. The first was at a horse track, the second at a sporting facility, and the third and final one at a dog track. Each of them had bathroom trailers brought in. These were something new to me, and in my opinion a step up from the rows of port-o-potties that one might see in the United States. These were bathrooms built into the sort of trailers that a large semi-truck could haul. One side was the women’s room and one side the men’s. It was still a little cramped, but there were real sinks with real water (albeit cold) as well as flush toilets. In each place there was also food kiosks set up. Finally, in all but the last, there were little booths set up by the local tourist groups, distributing brochures and selling little trinkets so that we at least had some sense of the places through which we werepassing. We finally arrived at the school in a suburb of Sydney that will be our home for the next week at 9:00 that evening.
The parish here met us with the same generosity of spirit that we had experienced in Melbourne. They had pizza and other food for us to welcome us. Unfortunately, my hope that our luggage might have beaten us to Sydney was not realized. It was closer to 11:30 before that happened. When it did arrive it was on several different moving vans, so clearly there had been a baggage transfer station somewhere along the way. Thankfully, no bags were misplaced and everyone received their luggage.
We are sleeping on the floors of classrooms here at the school. We do little else here but sleep. We have to leave the premises by 9:00am at which time the school is locked down. We cannot return until 7:00pm. We must be in by 11:00pm, at which time the school is locked down again. We have the use of the regular school bathrooms, which aren’t bad. There are also sinks in the classroom that make things a little easier. They had prepared for us by installing laundry lines in the rooom as well. The only somewhat dodgy element is the showers. They installed a temporary shower block that is quite literally encolsed in plywood. There are three shower heads in this temporary facility. The good news is that there is hot water. The bad news is that there are about 300 pilgrims staying here at the school. We have been alloted times. The men in our group can use the shower from 9:00-9:40 in the evening. The women are right after us, from 9:45-10:30. While some in our group initially were concerned with the shower itself, my primary concern is with those times. It seems to me that we will not always be here and free during those alloted times. If so, we will basically have to do without showers. We have three classrooms assigned to us. One is men only, one women only, and one mixed. Sunday night the two single sex rooms were full and the mixed room was about half full. Space being what it is these days; we came back Monday evening to discover that eight Italians, both men and women, had been added to fill up the room.
More on our first full day in Sydney in the next post.
Finishing in Melbourne
I apologize to my readers for the long gap in reflections. With travel and coming to a new place it has been difficult to get to find both the time and the internet access to continue.
The genorisity and goodness of the people of St. Paul the Apostle parish showed forth in great amounts on Saturday evening and early Sunday morning. The entire PYE group joined the parish at their regular 6:00 Saturday evening vigil mass. The small church was packed with standing room only. Almost all the host families were there, as well as many others. The pastor joked that two years earlier, when they first began to discuss the possiblity of hosting something like this, he mentioned what it would be like to have 500 young people come and take over the evening mass. We were more like 300, but the sentiment was clear.
During the mass itself there was a significant sharing of the ministries – some of the music coming from the parish choir and some from the choir that had come together with the pilgrims. Some of the readers were pilgrims and some from the parish. In a small way I think that this showed forth the wonderful way in which each group was touched and formed by the other.
After mass everyone was invited to a farewell Barbeque. Now, mind you, it was quite cold yet in Melbourne. We gathered in the large tent that had been set up for our food area for the week. That tent had been full when it was just the pilgrims dining there. Now it was bursting at the seams. Still, everyone seemed to keep in good spirits and generosity and patience abounded. There was a bitter-sweet element, however, because the time we pilgrims were spending with this fine people was coming to an end. There is no doubt that these parishioners who had opened their homes to complete strangers enjoyed the experience. In most cases we were treated like sons and daughters, looked after, cared for, and encourgaed. There were many gifts exchanged between pilgrims and hosts in the late hours of Saturday and the early hours of Sunday.
Perhaps the best testimony of the care and concern shown to us by them came on Sunday morning. We had been told we needed to report to the central bus depot that had been set up at one of the Catholic High schools by 5:00am. There did not seem to be any grumbles about such an early hour from hosts who, instead of sleeping in on a Sunday morning, were out and about beginning at about 4:30. My own host, Trevor, not only brought us there but waited for well over an hour, making sure that everything was going smoothly and that there were no problems. The care and concern was so genuine and so pure that it surely touched me deeply.
More details on the journey itself in the next post.
The genorisity and goodness of the people of St. Paul the Apostle parish showed forth in great amounts on Saturday evening and early Sunday morning. The entire PYE group joined the parish at their regular 6:00 Saturday evening vigil mass. The small church was packed with standing room only. Almost all the host families were there, as well as many others. The pastor joked that two years earlier, when they first began to discuss the possiblity of hosting something like this, he mentioned what it would be like to have 500 young people come and take over the evening mass. We were more like 300, but the sentiment was clear.
During the mass itself there was a significant sharing of the ministries – some of the music coming from the parish choir and some from the choir that had come together with the pilgrims. Some of the readers were pilgrims and some from the parish. In a small way I think that this showed forth the wonderful way in which each group was touched and formed by the other.
After mass everyone was invited to a farewell Barbeque. Now, mind you, it was quite cold yet in Melbourne. We gathered in the large tent that had been set up for our food area for the week. That tent had been full when it was just the pilgrims dining there. Now it was bursting at the seams. Still, everyone seemed to keep in good spirits and generosity and patience abounded. There was a bitter-sweet element, however, because the time we pilgrims were spending with this fine people was coming to an end. There is no doubt that these parishioners who had opened their homes to complete strangers enjoyed the experience. In most cases we were treated like sons and daughters, looked after, cared for, and encourgaed. There were many gifts exchanged between pilgrims and hosts in the late hours of Saturday and the early hours of Sunday.
Perhaps the best testimony of the care and concern shown to us by them came on Sunday morning. We had been told we needed to report to the central bus depot that had been set up at one of the Catholic High schools by 5:00am. There did not seem to be any grumbles about such an early hour from hosts who, instead of sleeping in on a Sunday morning, were out and about beginning at about 4:30. My own host, Trevor, not only brought us there but waited for well over an hour, making sure that everything was going smoothly and that there were no problems. The care and concern was so genuine and so pure that it surely touched me deeply.
More details on the journey itself in the next post.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Final day in Melbourne
Today marks the final day of our PYE here in Melbourne. Tomorrow morning we are leaving by bus for Sydney. The busses are scheduled to leave at 5:00am, so chances are that I will not have a chance to add another entry for a while after this.
This morning, after a morning prayer led by the group from Argentina we had a facilitated discussion. The two key folks who had been invited were William Cardinal Napier, OFM - the Archbishop of Durban, South Africa and Mr. John Lenders, a member of the state parliament and the minister of the treasury for the state of Victoria.
Mr. Lenders gave an interesting reflection on the tension between brining his Catholic faith into public life and the need to represent the constituency that elected him to parliament. He admits that this is a tightrope and that he struggles with it quite regularly. One question that came to him from the group was also quite illuminating. He was asked whether he ever felt powerless in his exercise of governance. He admitted that though he was responsible for administered a state budget of 37 billion dollars, he often is introduced to programs that could make a real impact in the lives of people, but he is unable to fund them because of limitations in the budget. He said that his having to deal with a budget is little different that the realities of most families - tough choices need to be made and one is often left feeling powerless in the face to things that one wishes to do but can't. The only difference, in his words, is that "there are more naughts (zeros) at the end of mine." Another area of powerlessness that he identified was in the area of rising energy costs. Here in Australia, as in the States, these rising costs have been a real burden for families. Government can do very little.
The Cardinal Archbishop was wonderful. He was so incredibly unassuming and personal. In response to a question about leadership he told a story of a porter who used to tell people, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Follow me, I'm right behind you." He spoke of the need to be out front in leadership, to give people a vision and to inspire them to more than they otherwise would be able to imagine. Then, once you have done that, get out of the way and come behind as supporter and encourager, letting others take the lead. A very interesting view of leadership coming from an Archbishop!
In response to a question about prejudice he said that he felt the response of a disciple of Jesus to anti-Catholic or anti-Christian motives was simply to remain faithful to one's convictions. You will show your opponents wrong by the love you show in caring for others. In South Africa, he said, the Catholic Church is out front in the area of treating the many victims of the AIDS pandemic, thus diffusing any latent anti-Catholicism.
Finally, in repsonse to a question about morality he gave an interesting analogy. He noted that most of us present had brought digital cameras on our pilgrimage. He said that if you do not follow the manufacturer's instructions, you cannot get the camera to work. If you somehow manage, the quality of the pictures will be inferior. The same is true of life, he said. God's commandments are like manufacturer's instructions, designed to help us get the best quality results out of life. Such an original and concrete metaphor!
After this discussion we had a final chance to meet in our small groups. I am not sure how good a job I did in facilitating my group, but I certainly did the best that I could.
This was followed by a mid-day prayer led by the pilgrims from Africa. The level of singing, clapping, and dancing was a new high!
This evening we will celebrate a vigil mass with the parish. This will be followed by a farewell BBQ and entertainment. All of our host families will be there. They have been so wonderful and generous with us. It will be good to have a chace to celebrate with all of them.
Tomorrow in Sydney!
This morning, after a morning prayer led by the group from Argentina we had a facilitated discussion. The two key folks who had been invited were William Cardinal Napier, OFM - the Archbishop of Durban, South Africa and Mr. John Lenders, a member of the state parliament and the minister of the treasury for the state of Victoria.
Mr. Lenders gave an interesting reflection on the tension between brining his Catholic faith into public life and the need to represent the constituency that elected him to parliament. He admits that this is a tightrope and that he struggles with it quite regularly. One question that came to him from the group was also quite illuminating. He was asked whether he ever felt powerless in his exercise of governance. He admitted that though he was responsible for administered a state budget of 37 billion dollars, he often is introduced to programs that could make a real impact in the lives of people, but he is unable to fund them because of limitations in the budget. He said that his having to deal with a budget is little different that the realities of most families - tough choices need to be made and one is often left feeling powerless in the face to things that one wishes to do but can't. The only difference, in his words, is that "there are more naughts (zeros) at the end of mine." Another area of powerlessness that he identified was in the area of rising energy costs. Here in Australia, as in the States, these rising costs have been a real burden for families. Government can do very little.
The Cardinal Archbishop was wonderful. He was so incredibly unassuming and personal. In response to a question about leadership he told a story of a porter who used to tell people, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Follow me, I'm right behind you." He spoke of the need to be out front in leadership, to give people a vision and to inspire them to more than they otherwise would be able to imagine. Then, once you have done that, get out of the way and come behind as supporter and encourager, letting others take the lead. A very interesting view of leadership coming from an Archbishop!
In response to a question about prejudice he said that he felt the response of a disciple of Jesus to anti-Catholic or anti-Christian motives was simply to remain faithful to one's convictions. You will show your opponents wrong by the love you show in caring for others. In South Africa, he said, the Catholic Church is out front in the area of treating the many victims of the AIDS pandemic, thus diffusing any latent anti-Catholicism.
Finally, in repsonse to a question about morality he gave an interesting analogy. He noted that most of us present had brought digital cameras on our pilgrimage. He said that if you do not follow the manufacturer's instructions, you cannot get the camera to work. If you somehow manage, the quality of the pictures will be inferior. The same is true of life, he said. God's commandments are like manufacturer's instructions, designed to help us get the best quality results out of life. Such an original and concrete metaphor!
After this discussion we had a final chance to meet in our small groups. I am not sure how good a job I did in facilitating my group, but I certainly did the best that I could.
This was followed by a mid-day prayer led by the pilgrims from Africa. The level of singing, clapping, and dancing was a new high!
This evening we will celebrate a vigil mass with the parish. This will be followed by a farewell BBQ and entertainment. All of our host families will be there. They have been so wonderful and generous with us. It will be good to have a chace to celebrate with all of them.
Tomorrow in Sydney!
Friday, July 11, 2008
Here there and everywhere
Friday morning, after gathering for short morning prayer, we went to our small groups for discussion of the previous day's input. We did not have long, and the group again struggled to enter into the process. Still, there were a few people, reflecting on the idea of JPIC who spoke of some concrete ways in which they and their schools were involved in social outreach. Most of the people, however, found it difficult to imagine how they could be positive agents for systemic change.
After our small groups we regathered in the Church for a presentation of the Stations of the Cross. We had originally been scheduled to do this outside, climbing the hill nearby, but the rainy weather prevented it. This very traditional devotion served to help put the idea of the Passion of Jesus in very concrete terms.
This was followed up by some reflections by a Passionist priest from Naples, Italy. His reflections centered on the idea of garbage. He said that our modern consumerist culture creates mountains of trash. But some of it was it creates is human refuse. By that he meant that our society treats some people as if they were garbage and attempts to throw them away. He identified these as those whom Jesus called the least and said that they are those with whom we need to most be in touch if we are to keep alive the Passion of Jesus. He made an interesting connection to the parable of the workers in the vineyard. He said that those who were not hired until late in the day were the people whom that society had treated as human garbage. The point of the parable, he said, is that because they received a full day's wage for only an hour of work, the owner of the vineyard was making the point that no one is excluded and no one is garbage.
After lunch we boarded buses for a trip to downtown Melbourne. In the evening there was a mass of commissioning for all the WYD pilgrims who had gathered in the Melbourne area as part of their prepration and journey toward Sydney. It was held in the Telstra Dome, one of the major football stadiums in Melbourne. The mass was presided over by the Archbishop of Melbourne.
We arrived near the stadium at about 2:30. The doors did not open until 4:30 and the mass was not scheduled to begin until 6:30, so we had some time to see the city. Just after the buses pulled away, however, one of our group discovered that she had left her purse on the bus. In it was her passport, her money, and her ticket to the mass. That person was the sister of my fiancee, so the three of us spent some time trying to get it back! Luckily we were able to contact a group leader, who was able to contact the bus company, who was able to contact the driver. After about an hour and a half she had her purse back.
We took the remaining time to walk through the downtown area and visit the Melbourne aquarium. The highight of that for me was undoubtedly the display of jellyfish.
Returning to the stadium I was somewhat unsure of what the experience of mass would be like. I had never participated in a mass of this size. They told us the stadium seats somewhere around 50,000 people. Looking around I would estimate that there were about 35,000 people there. The largest assembly I had previously been a part of would have been the baccalaureate mass when I graduated from Notre Dame. I would guess that that was about 5000 or 6000 people. I wondered if, sitting in stadium seats in the upper deck behind the altar, watching what was taking place on large TV screens, I would actually feel like I was a fully, consciously, and actively participating in a liturgy or if I would feel like a spectator. I was plesantly surprised that once mass began it did feel like this entire stadium was engaged in this. It reassures me that the papal mass in Sydney, which will have 10 or 20 times as many people, will also be a true religious experience.
It was late in the evening by the time we were back to Endeavour Hills and our host families.
After our small groups we regathered in the Church for a presentation of the Stations of the Cross. We had originally been scheduled to do this outside, climbing the hill nearby, but the rainy weather prevented it. This very traditional devotion served to help put the idea of the Passion of Jesus in very concrete terms.
This was followed up by some reflections by a Passionist priest from Naples, Italy. His reflections centered on the idea of garbage. He said that our modern consumerist culture creates mountains of trash. But some of it was it creates is human refuse. By that he meant that our society treats some people as if they were garbage and attempts to throw them away. He identified these as those whom Jesus called the least and said that they are those with whom we need to most be in touch if we are to keep alive the Passion of Jesus. He made an interesting connection to the parable of the workers in the vineyard. He said that those who were not hired until late in the day were the people whom that society had treated as human garbage. The point of the parable, he said, is that because they received a full day's wage for only an hour of work, the owner of the vineyard was making the point that no one is excluded and no one is garbage.
After lunch we boarded buses for a trip to downtown Melbourne. In the evening there was a mass of commissioning for all the WYD pilgrims who had gathered in the Melbourne area as part of their prepration and journey toward Sydney. It was held in the Telstra Dome, one of the major football stadiums in Melbourne. The mass was presided over by the Archbishop of Melbourne.
We arrived near the stadium at about 2:30. The doors did not open until 4:30 and the mass was not scheduled to begin until 6:30, so we had some time to see the city. Just after the buses pulled away, however, one of our group discovered that she had left her purse on the bus. In it was her passport, her money, and her ticket to the mass. That person was the sister of my fiancee, so the three of us spent some time trying to get it back! Luckily we were able to contact a group leader, who was able to contact the bus company, who was able to contact the driver. After about an hour and a half she had her purse back.
We took the remaining time to walk through the downtown area and visit the Melbourne aquarium. The highight of that for me was undoubtedly the display of jellyfish.
Returning to the stadium I was somewhat unsure of what the experience of mass would be like. I had never participated in a mass of this size. They told us the stadium seats somewhere around 50,000 people. Looking around I would estimate that there were about 35,000 people there. The largest assembly I had previously been a part of would have been the baccalaureate mass when I graduated from Notre Dame. I would guess that that was about 5000 or 6000 people. I wondered if, sitting in stadium seats in the upper deck behind the altar, watching what was taking place on large TV screens, I would actually feel like I was a fully, consciously, and actively participating in a liturgy or if I would feel like a spectator. I was plesantly surprised that once mass began it did feel like this entire stadium was engaged in this. It reassures me that the papal mass in Sydney, which will have 10 or 20 times as many people, will also be a true religious experience.
It was late in the evening by the time we were back to Endeavour Hills and our host families.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Stories abound
Thursday, our first full day of the PYE, was a day of stories.
The morning began with a Morning Prayer led by our group from the United States. There are many pilgrims in our group that are extremely talented musically. At times I am sad that I am not one of them, but I was also proud to be part of a group that led our 200 or so pilgrims in a rousing and moving morning prayer. We sang a setting of Psalm 63 (a very traditional psalm for morning prayer) that simply took hold of me (and I think most of the assembly). The cantor was Russel, a fellow Houstonian, and it was easy to see the look of pure joy on his face as he sang to the praise and glory of God.
The pastor of the parish that is serving as our host introduced the first session of input. Using the opening of the story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus as his jumping off point, he stressed how much we can learn of God and God's activity in our lives by looking carefully at our own stories. There is much wisdom present for those willing to listen when we look inward.
The first person to share her story was a woman who works with those suffering from drug addictions here in Australia. Originally from Vietnam, she shared the story of how her parents had paid a smuggler to take her older brother out of the country. When the day arrived and the smugglers sent word that the one who was to go to freedom must be at a certain place within 30 minutes, her brother could not be found. So, she was sent in his place. She had no idea that her parents had planned for any of them to leave, so she had no opportunity to prepare herself and no chance to say goodbye to any of her friends of loved ones. Several weeks later she found herself completely alone - at 17! - in a refugee camp in Indonesia. There workers interviewed her extensively and eventually she was granted political refugee status by Australia. She arrive din the country alone and unable to speak any English. She spoke of the loneliness and isolation that she experienced and the struggle to make a new home for herself. I was deeply touched and can hardly begin to image what such an experience would be like. I fear that if I were to have been put in a situation similar to that I would not have made it. I know my own weakness and my profound fear of feeling alone and isolated. The strength she showed and the willingness to trust God were a great witness.
The second person to share her story was a religious sister currently working in Australia who grew up in Northern Ireland. She was just a small girl when the "Troubles" began. She shared how it was to live in constant fear amid turmoil and strife. She spoke of how her own father fell under suspicion by the English authorities. How he was removed from their home in the middle of the night and interred, without charge, without evidence, and without any recourse whatsoever. She spoke of how the army came and destroyed the garden at her home in search of evidence, but found nothing. She spoke of the dehumanization that such things brought. And yet she stood before us, seaking also of reconciliation and healing. She was not an embittered woman, full of anger and hate. It was amazing to see how, as she freely admitted, through grace one can move through and beyond such things. It was no accident of history, it seems, that the accords that began to put an end to the Troubles were signed on Good Friday.
From these stories we had a chance to gather in our small groups for reflection. The time was short as the stories had gone longer than planned. I hope I did a good job of facilitating.
In the afternoon we again gathered in the Church for more input. The primary theme of the afternoon was JPIC - Justice, Peace, and the Integrity of Creation. We heard how the Passionist charism, to keep alive the memory of the Passion of Jesus Christ by being present to those who are today the crucified ones - animates and inspires this community's work for justice, peace, and the integrity of all creation. There were also several powerful stories as well.
We heard from a Passionist priest in Australia who serves as a chaplain for a high school. Every year he leads a group of grade 11 students on a two week service project to an orphanage in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. No ordinary orphanage either, this is a place for children with profound cognitive and physical disabilities. Both his own testimony of how the experience has helped in his own ongoing conversion and the recorded testimony of two of his students spoke of the amazing power of love to overcome fear, revulsion, and uncomfortability. They spoke of how surprised they were at their own reaction. While they themselves did not make the comparison, I was reminded of the story of St. Francis and the leper. Francis had always feared and avoided lepers, but one day came upon one in the country side. Suddenly overcome he approched and embraced the leper. In later years he would say that which formerly had been bitter had become sweet. This was a critical moment in his conversion. I could see the same was true of these high school boys.
Another story was from a Passionist who lives and ministers in Italy, working with drug treatment programs. I must admit that his story was harder to follow. He spoke in Italian. Another priest translated into Spanish. Then a third priest translated the Spanish into English. Not only could I only understand 1/3 of the time, I had the suspicion that I was hearing only part of the story, as the telling in each language got progressively shorter. Still, the message that camd through was one of love. Those who fall victim to drugs often do so because they are seeking to fill a void in their lives. The only thing that can fill that void is real love. Those who minister to them must be willing to love them wholly and completely - just as Jesus did - if they have any hope of touching them. Only once these sick and broken people feel real and authentic love from others can they begin to love themselves and accept that they are beloved by God.
The final story of the afternoon was from a Passionist sister, originally from Northern Ireland, who now lives and works in Bosnia. There, she and another sister, have helped to bring hospice and palliative care to the people of Bosnia. She spoke of the great brokenness and indifference she experienced when she first arrived. The people of Bosnia had been so traumatized by war that they could not find it within themselves to care for those who were terminally ill. There was no tradition of palliative care, and so many cancer patients died in extreme pain, often alone. She told the dual stories of a society beginning to heal and the emergence of hospice care. Today there are facilities and training programs, home care programs and better available pain management medication. What was perhaps most impressive about her story is the way in which she told it, full of laughter and smiles, full of jokes and self deprecation. Something so serious, so painful, so sobering was communicated again with great love and joy. Over and over agian this seems to be the key - the Passion of Jesus is lived over and over again only if it is lived as Jesus lived it, with great and abiding and overflowing love.
In the evening we gathered for a celebration of the Eucharist, and after dinner a Reconciliation service with an opportunity for individual confessions. This last was conducted primarily in Portuguese by the members of the Brazilian contigent. It too contained some powerful moments. The story of Nathan's confrontation of David following his murder (to cover up his adultery) was acted out. The priest who played the part of David, after having been confronted with the denunciation "You are the man" sang psalm 51 (Have mercy on me, O God, in you kindness) with such passion and devotion and sincerity that I was literally moved to tears. I could see and feel real contrition and sorrow, a real desire for reconciliation and forgiveness. I have prayed that psalm many times, but I had never connected it to that story or felt it as powerfully as I did that night. The same priest also sang the entire story of the man who had two sons. Even though I do not speak a word of Portuguese, he made that story come alive as well. Reflecting on it, I know how often I am like that elder son. Full of obedience but also full of resentment and hardness of heart. I took something powerful from that as well.
It was a very full day indeed.
The morning began with a Morning Prayer led by our group from the United States. There are many pilgrims in our group that are extremely talented musically. At times I am sad that I am not one of them, but I was also proud to be part of a group that led our 200 or so pilgrims in a rousing and moving morning prayer. We sang a setting of Psalm 63 (a very traditional psalm for morning prayer) that simply took hold of me (and I think most of the assembly). The cantor was Russel, a fellow Houstonian, and it was easy to see the look of pure joy on his face as he sang to the praise and glory of God.
The pastor of the parish that is serving as our host introduced the first session of input. Using the opening of the story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus as his jumping off point, he stressed how much we can learn of God and God's activity in our lives by looking carefully at our own stories. There is much wisdom present for those willing to listen when we look inward.
The first person to share her story was a woman who works with those suffering from drug addictions here in Australia. Originally from Vietnam, she shared the story of how her parents had paid a smuggler to take her older brother out of the country. When the day arrived and the smugglers sent word that the one who was to go to freedom must be at a certain place within 30 minutes, her brother could not be found. So, she was sent in his place. She had no idea that her parents had planned for any of them to leave, so she had no opportunity to prepare herself and no chance to say goodbye to any of her friends of loved ones. Several weeks later she found herself completely alone - at 17! - in a refugee camp in Indonesia. There workers interviewed her extensively and eventually she was granted political refugee status by Australia. She arrive din the country alone and unable to speak any English. She spoke of the loneliness and isolation that she experienced and the struggle to make a new home for herself. I was deeply touched and can hardly begin to image what such an experience would be like. I fear that if I were to have been put in a situation similar to that I would not have made it. I know my own weakness and my profound fear of feeling alone and isolated. The strength she showed and the willingness to trust God were a great witness.
The second person to share her story was a religious sister currently working in Australia who grew up in Northern Ireland. She was just a small girl when the "Troubles" began. She shared how it was to live in constant fear amid turmoil and strife. She spoke of how her own father fell under suspicion by the English authorities. How he was removed from their home in the middle of the night and interred, without charge, without evidence, and without any recourse whatsoever. She spoke of how the army came and destroyed the garden at her home in search of evidence, but found nothing. She spoke of the dehumanization that such things brought. And yet she stood before us, seaking also of reconciliation and healing. She was not an embittered woman, full of anger and hate. It was amazing to see how, as she freely admitted, through grace one can move through and beyond such things. It was no accident of history, it seems, that the accords that began to put an end to the Troubles were signed on Good Friday.
From these stories we had a chance to gather in our small groups for reflection. The time was short as the stories had gone longer than planned. I hope I did a good job of facilitating.
In the afternoon we again gathered in the Church for more input. The primary theme of the afternoon was JPIC - Justice, Peace, and the Integrity of Creation. We heard how the Passionist charism, to keep alive the memory of the Passion of Jesus Christ by being present to those who are today the crucified ones - animates and inspires this community's work for justice, peace, and the integrity of all creation. There were also several powerful stories as well.
We heard from a Passionist priest in Australia who serves as a chaplain for a high school. Every year he leads a group of grade 11 students on a two week service project to an orphanage in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. No ordinary orphanage either, this is a place for children with profound cognitive and physical disabilities. Both his own testimony of how the experience has helped in his own ongoing conversion and the recorded testimony of two of his students spoke of the amazing power of love to overcome fear, revulsion, and uncomfortability. They spoke of how surprised they were at their own reaction. While they themselves did not make the comparison, I was reminded of the story of St. Francis and the leper. Francis had always feared and avoided lepers, but one day came upon one in the country side. Suddenly overcome he approched and embraced the leper. In later years he would say that which formerly had been bitter had become sweet. This was a critical moment in his conversion. I could see the same was true of these high school boys.
Another story was from a Passionist who lives and ministers in Italy, working with drug treatment programs. I must admit that his story was harder to follow. He spoke in Italian. Another priest translated into Spanish. Then a third priest translated the Spanish into English. Not only could I only understand 1/3 of the time, I had the suspicion that I was hearing only part of the story, as the telling in each language got progressively shorter. Still, the message that camd through was one of love. Those who fall victim to drugs often do so because they are seeking to fill a void in their lives. The only thing that can fill that void is real love. Those who minister to them must be willing to love them wholly and completely - just as Jesus did - if they have any hope of touching them. Only once these sick and broken people feel real and authentic love from others can they begin to love themselves and accept that they are beloved by God.
The final story of the afternoon was from a Passionist sister, originally from Northern Ireland, who now lives and works in Bosnia. There, she and another sister, have helped to bring hospice and palliative care to the people of Bosnia. She spoke of the great brokenness and indifference she experienced when she first arrived. The people of Bosnia had been so traumatized by war that they could not find it within themselves to care for those who were terminally ill. There was no tradition of palliative care, and so many cancer patients died in extreme pain, often alone. She told the dual stories of a society beginning to heal and the emergence of hospice care. Today there are facilities and training programs, home care programs and better available pain management medication. What was perhaps most impressive about her story is the way in which she told it, full of laughter and smiles, full of jokes and self deprecation. Something so serious, so painful, so sobering was communicated again with great love and joy. Over and over agian this seems to be the key - the Passion of Jesus is lived over and over again only if it is lived as Jesus lived it, with great and abiding and overflowing love.
In the evening we gathered for a celebration of the Eucharist, and after dinner a Reconciliation service with an opportunity for individual confessions. This last was conducted primarily in Portuguese by the members of the Brazilian contigent. It too contained some powerful moments. The story of Nathan's confrontation of David following his murder (to cover up his adultery) was acted out. The priest who played the part of David, after having been confronted with the denunciation "You are the man" sang psalm 51 (Have mercy on me, O God, in you kindness) with such passion and devotion and sincerity that I was literally moved to tears. I could see and feel real contrition and sorrow, a real desire for reconciliation and forgiveness. I have prayed that psalm many times, but I had never connected it to that story or felt it as powerfully as I did that night. The same priest also sang the entire story of the man who had two sons. Even though I do not speak a word of Portuguese, he made that story come alive as well. Reflecting on it, I know how often I am like that elder son. Full of obedience but also full of resentment and hardness of heart. I took something powerful from that as well.
It was a very full day indeed.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
First day
We arrived back at the parish at 9:30 Wednesday morning for registration and the beginning of the Passionist Youth Encounter (PYE). When I was handed my ID tag I was surpised to see that under contact group it said - "Group B (group leader)" While I vaguely remembered telling Joyce (the woman who organized us from the states) that I was willing to help in whatever way needed, I did not know that this meant I was scheduled for this. I quickly looked at the schedule to see when these contact groups were meeting. I saw that the first one was scheduled for 11:30 that morning. I said to myself, "Gee, it would be good if we had a chance to meet as group leaders before that to find out what we are supposed to be doing!" As I further scanned the schedule I saw that in fact we were, right at that very moment!
That meeting was both helpful and reassuring. The contact groups are groups of about 15 people each that have been selected to put each of us in contact with people from many other countries. Five times throughout the PYE we will gather in these small groups to discuss and share based on our experiences. My role as group leader is simply to facilitate those discussions. Our first meeting was largely a get-to-know you session. Our group has people from the States, Australia, New Zealand, Germany, the Phillipines, Papua New Guinea, South Korea, and Brazil in it. The pilgrims range from 16 to 55. (The 55 year-old is the leader of the group that has come from the state of South Australia.) Their connection to the Passionists varies from having grown up in a parish staffed by Passionist priests to those who work with the Passionists in various ministries.
The focus of the day was on the opening ceremonies and prayers of that afternoon. At 3:30 we gathered in the Church parking lot and processed a quarter mile up the hill to a local park that overlooked the entire area. There, at the very crest of the hill, we were priviledged to be welcomed to country by a representative group of aboriginal people. These original custodians of the land of Australia have begun to have their voice heard again in special and real ways. Aborignal Catholics have now been allowed to bring the traditions of their ancestors in to the local Catholic community as gifts to be treasured. As a part of the ceremonies, three traditional aboriginal message sticks were presented, one to a representative of the local parish, one to the provincial minister of the local province of Passionists, and one to the Passionist General Superior who was present to take to Rome. This exchange of gifts marked the profound respect that has begun to grow between the local Catholic Church as these first Australians. With tradtional music and dance, with a ceremony involving earth, fire, and water, we were made to feel welcome and included in this ancient place. This was a profoundly moving experience and one for which I am most grateful and most humbled.
Knowing the history of discrimination that the Aborignies faced here in Australia and the ways in which the Catholic church had been complicit in the attempts to destroy aborigianal culture and ways of life, to see that it was beginning to be understood and accepted that the Spirit of God was present and active in this ancient culture long before Europeans first landed on the shores. The spirituality and life of the Aborigines can only add to richness of the universality that is the Catholic Church. One does not need to become European in order to be Catholic. In school I have studied in the theology of inculturation, but I felt priviledged to see this reality expressed in such concrete ways.
This ceremony was followed by a procession back to the Church where we celebrated mass dedicated to Mary under the title of Our Mother of Hope. The provincial minister preached on the meaning of hope and its connection to what we are doing on this pilgrimage. The mass began with a presentation the relics of three Passionist saints who are special patrons of young people, St. Gabriel, St. Gemma, and St. Maria Goretti.
After supper the day closed with a Taize style prayer led by the pilgrims from Ireland and Scotland.
On a more prosaic note, it is winter here in Australia. It has been quite cool, colder than usual for this location at this time of year. In the morning it was only 4 degrees (Celcius), about 40 degrees Farenheit. Quite a difference from Houston at this time of year! It was good that we had followed the advice to bring warm clothes, and that we had been given PYE sweatshirts when we arrived!
I look forward to Thursday and our first day of input.
That meeting was both helpful and reassuring. The contact groups are groups of about 15 people each that have been selected to put each of us in contact with people from many other countries. Five times throughout the PYE we will gather in these small groups to discuss and share based on our experiences. My role as group leader is simply to facilitate those discussions. Our first meeting was largely a get-to-know you session. Our group has people from the States, Australia, New Zealand, Germany, the Phillipines, Papua New Guinea, South Korea, and Brazil in it. The pilgrims range from 16 to 55. (The 55 year-old is the leader of the group that has come from the state of South Australia.) Their connection to the Passionists varies from having grown up in a parish staffed by Passionist priests to those who work with the Passionists in various ministries.
The focus of the day was on the opening ceremonies and prayers of that afternoon. At 3:30 we gathered in the Church parking lot and processed a quarter mile up the hill to a local park that overlooked the entire area. There, at the very crest of the hill, we were priviledged to be welcomed to country by a representative group of aboriginal people. These original custodians of the land of Australia have begun to have their voice heard again in special and real ways. Aborignal Catholics have now been allowed to bring the traditions of their ancestors in to the local Catholic community as gifts to be treasured. As a part of the ceremonies, three traditional aboriginal message sticks were presented, one to a representative of the local parish, one to the provincial minister of the local province of Passionists, and one to the Passionist General Superior who was present to take to Rome. This exchange of gifts marked the profound respect that has begun to grow between the local Catholic Church as these first Australians. With tradtional music and dance, with a ceremony involving earth, fire, and water, we were made to feel welcome and included in this ancient place. This was a profoundly moving experience and one for which I am most grateful and most humbled.
Knowing the history of discrimination that the Aborignies faced here in Australia and the ways in which the Catholic church had been complicit in the attempts to destroy aborigianal culture and ways of life, to see that it was beginning to be understood and accepted that the Spirit of God was present and active in this ancient culture long before Europeans first landed on the shores. The spirituality and life of the Aborigines can only add to richness of the universality that is the Catholic Church. One does not need to become European in order to be Catholic. In school I have studied in the theology of inculturation, but I felt priviledged to see this reality expressed in such concrete ways.
This ceremony was followed by a procession back to the Church where we celebrated mass dedicated to Mary under the title of Our Mother of Hope. The provincial minister preached on the meaning of hope and its connection to what we are doing on this pilgrimage. The mass began with a presentation the relics of three Passionist saints who are special patrons of young people, St. Gabriel, St. Gemma, and St. Maria Goretti.
After supper the day closed with a Taize style prayer led by the pilgrims from Ireland and Scotland.
On a more prosaic note, it is winter here in Australia. It has been quite cool, colder than usual for this location at this time of year. In the morning it was only 4 degrees (Celcius), about 40 degrees Farenheit. Quite a difference from Houston at this time of year! It was good that we had followed the advice to bring warm clothes, and that we had been given PYE sweatshirts when we arrived!
I look forward to Thursday and our first day of input.
Travel
I apologize to you, dear readers, for the delay in this post. The promised internet access has been a bit slow in coming. I hope that from here on out things will be a bit more regular.
I need to constantly remind myself that whatever discomforts and inconveniences I experience in international air travel, it is still amazing that I am able to come to this place at all in the time that I have. Rather than weeks or months aboard a ship, I have traveled quite literally halfway around the world in a matter of hours. Now, it was 15 hours on a single flight, mind you. I have been told that the flight I took, non-stop from LAX to Melbourne, is the longest comercially scheduled non-stop flight in the world. I do not know if that is true or not, but it certainly was the longest I have ever been on.
Technology has advanced significantly. Every seat on the plan had its own personal video screen. You had hundreds of movies available to you on demand. You could watch what you wanted when you wanted. Now, the price of this is that there was a small computer installed beneath every seat. So, legroom was reduced even more. Entertainment was better was comfort was worse. Frankly, I am not sure that this was a very good tradeoff. This is especially true for someone my size (6'1") who has trouble folding myself into airline seats. I probably slept about a grand total of 4 hours on the flight. I was certainly envious of those who could sleep more.
We arrived in Melbourne on time and without incident. When you travel in a big group, everything takes more time. You have to gather the group at each stage - after we get off the plane, after we pass through immigration, after we claim our bags, after we pass through customs. Still, despite the time, all of that was largely smooth. There was one fellow from our group whose bag did not arrive. It turns out that his lay-over in LAX was too long and they forgot to transfer his bag because it sat there so long. They gave him a couple of free toiletry kits (that included some clean underwear) and promised to deliver his bag as soon as it came in. He recieved it later that evening. The immigration and customs agents in Melbourne were very professional, polite, and efficient. I appreciated their work very much.
Once everyone had cleared customs one of the volunteers working for the Days in the Diocese program in Melbourne called our bus and we were taken to Endeavour Hills.
The parish of St. Paul the Apostle in Endeavour Hills (a suburb of Melbourne about 30 miles south east of the city) is the host for this Passionist Youth Encounter that serves as our run-up to the WYD events in Sydney. There are about 200 young people traveling as Passionist pilgrims from around the world gathered here. The parish has opened its arms to us and hundreds of families have volunteered as hosts. I am staying with one other fellow from my group at the home of a gentleman named Trevor, a high school teacher originally from South Africa. His brother and sister-in-law are also hosting two members of our group. The generosity and enthusiasm of these families has been wonderful.
When we arrived at the parish we were greeted by part of the parish staff and volunteers and told our host family assignments. There were no events scheduled for Tuesday (the day we arrived) so our only task was to begin to settle in.
By the time we arrived at Trevor's home, it had been approximately 33 hours since I had left mine in Houston Sunday morning. Operating on about 4 hours sleep, the first order of business was a nap. It was about 12:30 in the afternoon, so I did not want to sleep long so that I would not destroy my chance for a regular night's sleep. About 2 and a half hours and a shower later I again felt somewhat human.
In the afternoon Trevor showed Shatomi (the other member of our group staying with him) and I around town. We went into the local shopping center. I was surprised that two of the large grocery stores were Safeway and Aldi's, names that were quite familiar to me from the states.
In the evening we went to his brother and sister-in-laws house for supper. The two women from our group who were staying with them had not taken a nap directly on arriving and had fallen asleep around 5:30 in the evening. At 7:00, when supper was ready, they could not be roused. In the end, Trevor, Shatomi and I dined with his relatives while they slept. I heard tha they did not wake up until 7:30 the next morning, sleeping a full 14 hours!
It is a humbling experience to be welcomed in this way. To be welcomed into someone's home and treated as an honored guest, looked after in so many ways, simply because you are on pilgrimage reminds me of the responsibiity I carry in taking on the name pilgrim. People expect, and rightly so, that I am taking this very seriously and that this is a significant undertaking. They want to be a part of something holy and special. I would make a mockery of their commitment and generosity if I did not uphold my part, to be active and open in seeking the movements of the spirit in my experience.
More details on the opening of the Passionist Youth Encounter in my next post.
I need to constantly remind myself that whatever discomforts and inconveniences I experience in international air travel, it is still amazing that I am able to come to this place at all in the time that I have. Rather than weeks or months aboard a ship, I have traveled quite literally halfway around the world in a matter of hours. Now, it was 15 hours on a single flight, mind you. I have been told that the flight I took, non-stop from LAX to Melbourne, is the longest comercially scheduled non-stop flight in the world. I do not know if that is true or not, but it certainly was the longest I have ever been on.
Technology has advanced significantly. Every seat on the plan had its own personal video screen. You had hundreds of movies available to you on demand. You could watch what you wanted when you wanted. Now, the price of this is that there was a small computer installed beneath every seat. So, legroom was reduced even more. Entertainment was better was comfort was worse. Frankly, I am not sure that this was a very good tradeoff. This is especially true for someone my size (6'1") who has trouble folding myself into airline seats. I probably slept about a grand total of 4 hours on the flight. I was certainly envious of those who could sleep more.
We arrived in Melbourne on time and without incident. When you travel in a big group, everything takes more time. You have to gather the group at each stage - after we get off the plane, after we pass through immigration, after we claim our bags, after we pass through customs. Still, despite the time, all of that was largely smooth. There was one fellow from our group whose bag did not arrive. It turns out that his lay-over in LAX was too long and they forgot to transfer his bag because it sat there so long. They gave him a couple of free toiletry kits (that included some clean underwear) and promised to deliver his bag as soon as it came in. He recieved it later that evening. The immigration and customs agents in Melbourne were very professional, polite, and efficient. I appreciated their work very much.
Once everyone had cleared customs one of the volunteers working for the Days in the Diocese program in Melbourne called our bus and we were taken to Endeavour Hills.
The parish of St. Paul the Apostle in Endeavour Hills (a suburb of Melbourne about 30 miles south east of the city) is the host for this Passionist Youth Encounter that serves as our run-up to the WYD events in Sydney. There are about 200 young people traveling as Passionist pilgrims from around the world gathered here. The parish has opened its arms to us and hundreds of families have volunteered as hosts. I am staying with one other fellow from my group at the home of a gentleman named Trevor, a high school teacher originally from South Africa. His brother and sister-in-law are also hosting two members of our group. The generosity and enthusiasm of these families has been wonderful.
When we arrived at the parish we were greeted by part of the parish staff and volunteers and told our host family assignments. There were no events scheduled for Tuesday (the day we arrived) so our only task was to begin to settle in.
By the time we arrived at Trevor's home, it had been approximately 33 hours since I had left mine in Houston Sunday morning. Operating on about 4 hours sleep, the first order of business was a nap. It was about 12:30 in the afternoon, so I did not want to sleep long so that I would not destroy my chance for a regular night's sleep. About 2 and a half hours and a shower later I again felt somewhat human.
In the afternoon Trevor showed Shatomi (the other member of our group staying with him) and I around town. We went into the local shopping center. I was surprised that two of the large grocery stores were Safeway and Aldi's, names that were quite familiar to me from the states.
In the evening we went to his brother and sister-in-laws house for supper. The two women from our group who were staying with them had not taken a nap directly on arriving and had fallen asleep around 5:30 in the evening. At 7:00, when supper was ready, they could not be roused. In the end, Trevor, Shatomi and I dined with his relatives while they slept. I heard tha they did not wake up until 7:30 the next morning, sleeping a full 14 hours!
It is a humbling experience to be welcomed in this way. To be welcomed into someone's home and treated as an honored guest, looked after in so many ways, simply because you are on pilgrimage reminds me of the responsibiity I carry in taking on the name pilgrim. People expect, and rightly so, that I am taking this very seriously and that this is a significant undertaking. They want to be a part of something holy and special. I would make a mockery of their commitment and generosity if I did not uphold my part, to be active and open in seeking the movements of the spirit in my experience.
More details on the opening of the Passionist Youth Encounter in my next post.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Preparations...
As the day of departure for the Great Southern Land drew near and there were many details that needed attending. Ensuring that my credit card company knows I will be out of the country and does not lock my account for suspected fraud the first time I charge something in Australia. Making sure that a family member here has a copy of my passport. Doing laundry. Making sure that my pets will be cared for in my absence. Packing.
But in the midst of these more immediate preparations, I was reminded that the preparation process for this pilgrimage has been nearly a year and a half in the making. It was that long ago that I received a phone call from the director of young adult ministries of the Holy Cross province of Passionist priests and brothers inviting me to consider applying to be a Passionist Pilgrim to World Youth Day (WYD). The invitation caught me a little by surprise.
Having moved in Church circles for many years I had certainly heard of WYD. I had grown up in a parish in California that had no formal youth ministry whatsoever. At the University of Notre Dame, where I did my undergraduate studies, I was very active in the liturgical life on campus but never really connected to the campus ministry. So, I naively assumed that World Youth Day was for youth, i.e. teenagers. My teen years are long past. So why was I being invited to be a part of WYD? It turns out, much to my surprise, that WYD is not primarily geared to people we here in the states speak about as youth. Rather, this is most a gather in young adults. I will be celebrating my 35th birthday while in Sydney, so even in this regard I just barely qualify. Still, I was somewhat comforted to know that I would not be a generation removed from the rest of the attendees.
I was also a little surprised to be invited by the Passionists. I had come to know this religious community a little while in graduate school in Chicago. They had been one of the founders of the school and some of their members were students and on the faculty (including the president). In the short time that I had been living in Houston I had gotten to know them a little better since my then girlfriend (now fiancee) was working for them at Holy Name Retreat Center. I had been to the retreat center a number of times and helped out a little here and there. Still, I felt a bit shocked. But, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak, I said yes I was interested and began the application process. The deadline was only a few days away, so there were a lot of details about which I knew very little at that point.
Eventually, after I was accepted, some of those details came into sharper focus. One of the key things was that there was going to be a lot more to this preparation process than just getting materially ready for the trip. There was a great deal of spiritual preparation needed for this pilgrimage as well. The group of which I was a part numbered over 40 throughout the "western" part of the United States and began with eight of us in the greater Houston area. Eventually three would drop out and one would be added so there are six of us now. We have met at least monthly for a year and a half for study, prayer, and formation. This was an essential part of what makes this trip more a pilgrimage and less a vacation.
Pilgrims travel with a purpose. That is to say, they both know where they are going and why they are doing it. The journey itself is an essential part of the pilgrimage experience, both there and back. And the pilgrim comes back changed, or else the pilgrimage has not had its desired effect. I wonder what sort of changes are going to happen in me. I know that this process of preparation has already formed me in different ways.
Frankly the contact with other young adults have been good for me. For much of my life if I wanted to be involved in Church related activities I had to do so with people much older than myself. In so doing I forgot/failed to learn how to be young and Catholic. The kind of energy and enthusiasm, the kind of freshness and openness that I have experienced with my fellow pilgrims in the Houston area has been exciting and challenging both. I expect that I will continue to be stretched in this area. Gathering with hundreds of thousands of other young adults will be intense, and honestly a little scary for me.
On Wednesday the local Passionist community, together with the community fo Passionist partners and the board of directors of the Holy Name Retreat Center gathered to send us off with a blessing. It was a humbling experience to have so many people make a special effort to gather on a weekday evening to have dinner and pray for us. I feel a sense of responsibilty to all these people to make sure that I both remember them in my prayers on this trip and represent them well.
Right now I am sitting in the International Airport in Los Angeles, having flown in this morning from Houston, awaiting my flight to Melbourne. I am meeting the other Passionist pilgrims from around the United States, all of whom have now flown in the from every corner of the country. These are the people with whom I will be traveling, praying, eating, and being formed for the next two weeks. Right now I am struggling just to remember all of their names!
As a person who prefers quiet and focus, I know that these reflections will continue to be challenge as I know that many of them will be composed as this one is, in the midst of crowds and confusion, talking and laughter.
The pilgrimage has begun.
But in the midst of these more immediate preparations, I was reminded that the preparation process for this pilgrimage has been nearly a year and a half in the making. It was that long ago that I received a phone call from the director of young adult ministries of the Holy Cross province of Passionist priests and brothers inviting me to consider applying to be a Passionist Pilgrim to World Youth Day (WYD). The invitation caught me a little by surprise.
Having moved in Church circles for many years I had certainly heard of WYD. I had grown up in a parish in California that had no formal youth ministry whatsoever. At the University of Notre Dame, where I did my undergraduate studies, I was very active in the liturgical life on campus but never really connected to the campus ministry. So, I naively assumed that World Youth Day was for youth, i.e. teenagers. My teen years are long past. So why was I being invited to be a part of WYD? It turns out, much to my surprise, that WYD is not primarily geared to people we here in the states speak about as youth. Rather, this is most a gather in young adults. I will be celebrating my 35th birthday while in Sydney, so even in this regard I just barely qualify. Still, I was somewhat comforted to know that I would not be a generation removed from the rest of the attendees.
I was also a little surprised to be invited by the Passionists. I had come to know this religious community a little while in graduate school in Chicago. They had been one of the founders of the school and some of their members were students and on the faculty (including the president). In the short time that I had been living in Houston I had gotten to know them a little better since my then girlfriend (now fiancee) was working for them at Holy Name Retreat Center. I had been to the retreat center a number of times and helped out a little here and there. Still, I felt a bit shocked. But, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak, I said yes I was interested and began the application process. The deadline was only a few days away, so there were a lot of details about which I knew very little at that point.
Eventually, after I was accepted, some of those details came into sharper focus. One of the key things was that there was going to be a lot more to this preparation process than just getting materially ready for the trip. There was a great deal of spiritual preparation needed for this pilgrimage as well. The group of which I was a part numbered over 40 throughout the "western" part of the United States and began with eight of us in the greater Houston area. Eventually three would drop out and one would be added so there are six of us now. We have met at least monthly for a year and a half for study, prayer, and formation. This was an essential part of what makes this trip more a pilgrimage and less a vacation.
Pilgrims travel with a purpose. That is to say, they both know where they are going and why they are doing it. The journey itself is an essential part of the pilgrimage experience, both there and back. And the pilgrim comes back changed, or else the pilgrimage has not had its desired effect. I wonder what sort of changes are going to happen in me. I know that this process of preparation has already formed me in different ways.
Frankly the contact with other young adults have been good for me. For much of my life if I wanted to be involved in Church related activities I had to do so with people much older than myself. In so doing I forgot/failed to learn how to be young and Catholic. The kind of energy and enthusiasm, the kind of freshness and openness that I have experienced with my fellow pilgrims in the Houston area has been exciting and challenging both. I expect that I will continue to be stretched in this area. Gathering with hundreds of thousands of other young adults will be intense, and honestly a little scary for me.
On Wednesday the local Passionist community, together with the community fo Passionist partners and the board of directors of the Holy Name Retreat Center gathered to send us off with a blessing. It was a humbling experience to have so many people make a special effort to gather on a weekday evening to have dinner and pray for us. I feel a sense of responsibilty to all these people to make sure that I both remember them in my prayers on this trip and represent them well.
Right now I am sitting in the International Airport in Los Angeles, having flown in this morning from Houston, awaiting my flight to Melbourne. I am meeting the other Passionist pilgrims from around the United States, all of whom have now flown in the from every corner of the country. These are the people with whom I will be traveling, praying, eating, and being formed for the next two weeks. Right now I am struggling just to remember all of their names!
As a person who prefers quiet and focus, I know that these reflections will continue to be challenge as I know that many of them will be composed as this one is, in the midst of crowds and confusion, talking and laughter.
The pilgrimage has begun.
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