Treasure

I met Robert in 1989, and it really was love at first bite. I was smitten. We were together and we were happy for a long, long time. But in 2001-ish I just got bored with him. So I left him. Just took myself off someplace else, where he wasn't. He had no idea where I was, or how to find me. I'm good at clean breaks.

I bumped into him, quite by chance, two days ago. He's changed. He's still irresistably recognisable these ten years later, but he's different somehow. I'd forgotten those eyes. And suddenly I'm swimming across that deep green sea again, wondering if I'll ever really know him, and wondering how on earth I thought I knew him so well that I could afford myself the luxury of being bored by him, this beautifully complex creature.

Come On Baby, Light My Fire

Did you ever spend far too much time trying to nurture a friendship with someone who just doesn't seem to reciprocate? Ever felt like a fool for trying? Ever been mad at yourself for caring so much, when it's clear that they just don't?

Nah, me neither.

Hi! My name is (what?), my name is (who?)

This past week has offered much in the way of food for thought about self-disclosure. How much is good? How much is enough, and how much is too little? At what point does non-disclosure become deceit? And why do I feel quite comfortable disclosing information about myself to some people, while I become hesitant, even cagey around others?

I have, within a very short time-frame, been introduced to thirty total strangers who will be sharing a room with me for the next three years. And that's great! But scary at the same time. These people all have their own stories, their own secrets. And I have mine. My biggest secret is likely to make some of them suspicious of me, so I've been keeping it to myself. It's public information, but none of them have easy access to it. Unless I tell them.

I had this conversation with myself for the first three days, and on day four I chose to let four people in on it. They responded a lot better than I thought they would. So maybe things will be okay. But I'm still a bit nervous about coming out to the rest of the class. Wish me luck!

All of this reflection on self-disclosure has also given me space to think about a good friend of mine. He is sincerely convinced that he attracts women who are "messed up", and that this is a really bad thing, and reflects negatively on him, like he must have some kind of defficiency that draws these girls into his orbit. I think he's totally wrong about that. I think he's a genuinely good guy, with a heart of gold. He's a great listener, he does a good job of seeming genuinely interested in what you're telling him when you talk to him. He's the kind of guy whose warmth and charm makes a person feel at ease and able to talk.

A few months back I started trying to have a conversation with my friend, that I hoped would lead him to a place of enlightenment about my personal conviction that everybody on the planet is "messed up" to some extent, the only difference between the ones you know about and the ones you don't know about, are that the ones you know about felt comfortable enough to confide in you, whereas the ones you don't know about are the ones who keep their deep dark secrets to themselves. The chicks that people consider "messed up", are merely the unfortunates who didn't know enough to keep their big mouths shut, who didn't bow to society's taboos.

I knew where I was going with the conversation, and I was trying to take him through it step by step. I wanted to show him the light, rather than tell him about it. But I think I did a bad job of it, misjudged my friend and used entirely the wrong strategy for him. So I only got him halfway through the conversation before he backed out of it in a hurry. And we haven't spoken about anything meaningful since then, because his barriers are so far up and so unshakeable, that I can't get through to him. I am kicking myself. I really didn't expect him to bolt like a horse in a thunderstorm. Goes to show what I know about the subtleties of the male mind.

Yes, I know. Stupid = disclosing some of my own "messed up" story in an attempt to illustrate that there's a lot of "messed up" out there. And yes, I do know what I'm talking about, I'm not just deluding myself: in my line of work, a good number of people confide in me because they are confident that their secrets are safe with me. And I know that I know that I know: the common thread that runs through everyone's life story, is that people have suffered terribly, and have had to struggle to find meaning in their lives, and a reason to keep on living and reaching out to other people. REM said it: Everybody Hurts. I just wish I'd gotten my chance to make my brilliant point. Instead, my brave attempt at self-disclosure-with-the-intention-of-eventually-getting-to-my-point has resulted in my friend being more firmly convinced that he's a magnet for the "messed up". He doesn't have a clue that all of the seemingly "normal" people whose light casts dark shadows over the bravely stupid talkers, are just better at keeping their secrets to themselves. And he's equally clueless that the reason the "messed up" (read "bloody-brave-if-you-ask-me") people find themselves "drawn into his orbit" (read "feel comfortable enough to confide in him"), is simply testament to his charisma, his gift for making people feel accepted and at-ease in his presence.

In my book, he has a simple gift, not a sinister defficiency! But I suppose it's a matter of perspective. I just wonder whether my friend will ever shift his perspective or make peace with his gift, let alone understand how it works or begin to use it for the benefit of the people around him. For my part, I can't force my friend to hear me now that he's decided my presence in his life is nothing more than a testament to everything that he thinks must be wrong with him. I had my shot, and I blew it. Now I have to make peace with that, and let it be.

Fifty People - One Question

I was scouting around online for videos that might do a better job of showing off my new home than I have managed to do in photographs so far myself when I found a lovely clip of Temple Bar, Dublin (to go with my album on that awful social networking site that we all love so much).



After I watched that clip, I impulsively clicked on a related Galway clip. I've never been to Galway... but the Galway film just... just... made me catch my breath and go "aaaaah, man".

I think the Galway film is so moving because the lighting is beautiful, and the choice of background music sets the perfect tone, somewhere between nostalgia, deep sadness, and an unrelenting love of life.

This is a truly beautiful film, even though it feels a bit long in parts for those of us who would rather engage with our heads than with our hearts:

Great South African Sci-Fi / Urban Fantasy

Zoo City by Lauren Beukes
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I'm a big fan of Lauren Beukes' work, and I'm proud of her because she's a Cape Town girl, and who wouldn't be happy for her that she won the Arthur C. Clarke award?! For me though, as much as I wanted to absolutely love this book and give it a full five stars, I found myself disconnecting from the story a bit towards the end. I think that was because I'm always far more interested in the relational aspects of the story, I'm looking for a fair amount of "ship" in my reading. I know the plot has to unfold and things have to happen, but the last chapter or so felt like a rushed detail of drama rather than an intuitive exposition of the connectedness of the characters. Beukes is a great writer, she sees and describes a complex world. And she does it beautifully. I only wish she had given her 'bad guy' as much insightful treatment as she gave her protagonist.

Corpus Christi

Every year on the Feast of Corpus Christi a procession is held. What is Tradition and what is tradition in this event? What is the difference between the two? Would it affect your faith if the tradition part was discontinued?

To the best of my knowledge, the celebration of the Eucharist and the celebration of Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament on the Feast of Corpus Christi constitutes the Tradition of the Church, while the Eucharistic procession is entirely traditional.

I have hunted – the internet, and the convent library here at Springfield – for information about exactly what is supposed to happen on the Feast of Corpus Christi, and I have not found any single source that clearly delineates the rubrics in this regard. As such, I base my understanding on what I have read in a variety of sources, and what I have observed in the parish of Corpus Christi in Wynberg, Cape Town (where the church is situated in a predominantly Muslim neighbourhood).

Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament is definitely Tradition. It is a solemn ceremony that involves:

1. the exposition of the sacrament;
2. an opening prayer;
3. adoration of the sacrament;
4. censing of the exposed host (while the faithful sing St Thomas Aquinas’ Tantum Ergo);
5. the benediction proper (where the priest holds the monstrance wearing a humeral veil covering his shoulders, arms and hands, and then blesses the faithful with the Blessed Sacrament by tracing the sign of the cross with the monstrance held steadily upright before him); and
6. recitation of the Divine Praises; and
7. the singing of Psalm 117 with the antiphon "Let us adore forever the most holy sacrament" while the priest returns the Blessed Sacrament to the tabernacle.

The small-t tradition, as I understand it, starts with the procession – where the priest carries the monstrance in procession out of the church and around the neighbourhood. Where I have seen this done, the procession is quite elaborate and intricately organised: there is a cross-bearer who walks at the front, followed by altar boys and girls carrying candles, then there are small children carrying baskets of rose petals that they strew on the ground in the path of the blessed sacrament; then there are some members of the choir to keep the hymns going, followed by a burly man with a loudhailer who leads the rosary; behind him are the extraordinary ministers of holy communion, the deacons, the assistant and visiting priests, then the ceremonial canopy that is carried by at least four Knights of Da Gama in full regalia: these cover the priest carrying the monstrance; behind the canopy are more altar servers; more members of the choir; members of the Legion of Mary; members of the CWL; catechists and members of the parish pastoral council; followed by the youth and the rest of the congregation. The procession moves slowly through the neighbourhood and stops twice: each time at a private house belonging to a parishioner, where a special place has been prepared for the monstrance and the priest leads particular prayers before continuing with the procession.

The Tradition of celebrating the Feast of Corpus Christi was decreed by Pope Urban IV who published the Bull in 1264 (also granting indulgences for the attendance at Mass and at the Office). Pope Clement V published a new decree in 1311 again ordering the adoption of the feast. Pope John XXII also urged the feast’s observance. The decrees did not mention a procession as a feature of the celebration, and indulgences related to the procession were endowed by Pope Martin V and Pope Eugene IV (in the early-to-mid 1400’s).

At first, I thought that the scrapping of the small-t tradition part would affect my faith by making me a much happier worshipper! But on reflection, I think that what I dislike about the traditional procession is perhaps not even small-t tradition, but the local interpretation of the small-t tradition. So, I’m fine with keeping the procession – but what I would like to see changed is the sentiment or feeling that is expressed during the procession. In my parish, it feels like we are making an almighty show of being proud of our catholicity when we are not being at all universal but quite exclusive. It feels like we are publicly demanding our right to practise our religion, and the loudhailer prayers and voluble singing of hymns is our way of saying “Look at us!! We’re here, we’re Catholic, get used to it”. The militant ranks of worshippers seem to be declaring “I am Catholic, hear me roar!” And so we proceed around the neighbourhood making the sign of the cross in a manner that suggests we are waging a war against the evil that resides in our streets – when most of us have not engaged in dialogue with our neighbours, to find out who they are and what they believe, or to recognise ways in which they embody Christ. I find this uninformed triumphalism quite disconcerting.

Our honouring of the Body and Blood of Christ should always be deeply reverent and respectful. This mystery doesn’t magically make us better or more powerful than any non-Catholics who have the misfortune of living in our neighbourhood.

If keeping the small-t tradition of the procession means that we’re too tempted to hurry through the big-t Tradition of the Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament and don’t really listen to the words of the Tantum Ergo because we can’t wait to get out into the street to throw a tantrum ego, then maybe the procession would be better discontinued. But perhaps I should remember the traditional plea and invoke it on behalf of my fellow parishioners as well as myself: Deus tantum me damnabit. Maybe I do need those indulgences after all!

Pope Benedict XVI in his Angelus address at St Peter’s Square on Sunday 18 June 2006 said, in part:

“Indeed, the Eucharist is the ‘treasure’ of the Church, the precious heritage that her Lord has left to her. And the Church preserves it with the greatest care, celebrating it daily in Holy Mass, adoring it in churches and chapels, administering it to the sick, and as viaticum to those who are on their last journey.

However, this treasure that is destined for the baptized, does not exhaust its radius of action in the context of the Church: the Eucharist is the Lord Jesus who gives himself ‘for the life of the world’ (Jn 6:51). In every time and in every place, he wants to meet human beings and bring them the life of God. And this is not all. The Eucharist also has a cosmic property: the transformation of the bread and the wine into Christ's Body and Blood is in fact the principle of the divinization of creation itself.

For this reason, the Feast of Corpus Christi is characterized particularly by the tradition of carrying the Most Holy Sacrament in procession, an act full of meaning. By carrying the Eucharist through the streets and squares, we desire to immerse the Bread come down from Heaven in our daily lives. We want Jesus to walk where we walk, to live where we live. Our world, our existence, must become his temple.”

I am inspired by this excerpt, and I will strive to be open to the desire to immerse Jesus in my existence, in my relationships, and in the way in which I challenge misunderstandings about Christ and the injustices that arise out of that confusion.

An Interesting Snippet

The Eucharistic procession depicted in Roland Joffé’s 1986 film The Mission has to be one of the most moving scenes that I have seen in cinema. Towards the end of the film, Father Gabriel (played by Jeremy Irons) leads the singing Guarani people through the Mission territory while they are under attack from the Portuguese colonists. Father Gabriel carries the Blessed Sacrament on high in an ornate monstrance as he walks through the place that his sacrifices and theirs have turned into a sanctuary and a place of learning but which is now being destroyed, declaring by this action faith in God who embodies love and non-violence. Only a few women and children escape the massacre that ensues, and they flee into the jungle, taking with them only Father Gabriel’s memory and teaching.

Fun Fact: Fr Daniel Berrigan SJ, the American poet and peace activist appeared briefly in the film, as an incidental character called Sebastian. Go, Jesuits!!