Blessed are those who mourn

A talk I recently gave at the iWitness Conference.


https://www.xt3.com/library/view.php?id=8417&categoryId=26&episodeId=1477

WYD Madrid - a couple of visual snippits and a few thoughts

OK, so I haven't posted for two months, and yes, I do need a secretary so I can get around to posting more often! But in the meantime, here's a couple of amateur videos I took on the phone while in Madrid for WYD:

Pope Benedict arriving for the Vigil

What 2 million pilgrims look like

And here's this Sunday's homily (22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A). It's not much chop, but it does try to make a point about the reception of WYD and how we can learn from the pilgrims who have attended...

It was very hot in Madrid last week. It was also very crowded. And I didn’t get much sleep. But the beer was good and went down very well indeed. Oh, and there was also WYD going on. Madrid was my fifth WYD experience. So, you could say I’m rather experienced at it all. Some things are always the same – the crowds, the long, tiring days, the ‘joys’ of WYD meals, which are worse than airline meals from the old days.

Also the same is the immense spiritual blessings that somehow match and even overcome the physical exhaustion. These spiritual blessings are very much tied to the joy of travelling with the relatively small band of young pilgrims who end up under my care, watching them grow in faith and blossom as Christian disciples. There were 29 in our group, along with close to 4,000 Aussie pilgrims, and each of them has had that same WYD experience – they have come back to Australia quite different from when they left. The combination of renewed faith and joy brings with it great blessings and hope for the Church in OZ, and for our society in general.

This story will have been the same for the vast majority of people who went to Madrid for WYD, that is: the more than 500,000 young people who were there in the days leading up to the final Mass with Pope Benedict, and the nearly 2 million who were actually at that Mass. Exhaustion and faith; perseverance and hope; struggle and joy. This was no holiday; but it will remain in their memories for the rest of their lives, and it has changed their lives forever.

There is one thing about WYD, however, that these young pilgrims who have just returned home will not understand or appreciate. As far as the international media was concerned, including, I gather, the Australian media, about the only thing that happened in Madrid last week was a protest of a few thousand Spaniards at the presence of the Pope in their country, and a brief storm at which the pope’s hat was blown off. Two million young people who have made considerable personal sacrifice to come from the four corners of the world to celebrate their Catholic faith and to stand up as determined yet happy disciples of the Lord Jesus, verses a relatively small and ineffective protest march and a wet hat.

Being a Christian disciple in our world has become such an anomaly to those who influence our culture, that it finds it almost impossible to acknowledge it. In Madrid there were 2 million young people who, like the young Jeremiah of today’s first reading, have a fire burning in their hearts, yet this is no longer news worthy. We have just had an internationally massive event where hundreds of thousands of people have offered their exhausted bodies as a holy sacrifice pleasing to God, matching St Paul’s description of the saints of the Church from today’s second reading, yet the media cannot find a way of reporting it.

What the media finds unreportable, and our culture unbelievable, is for the nearly 4000 young Aussie pilgrims who have just returned home a sign of the cross of Jesus powerfully present for our world, a cross they have chosen to embrace and now carry willingly. So, how can we support our young Aussie pilgrims as they experience the rejection of their joy and hope by the culture surrounding them? Well, perhaps we need to learn to walk with them, so that we, too, can learn from them the true way of travelling the way of the cross.

Episcopal Ordination of Peter A Comensoli

8 June 2011 - Address by Ordinand

 

You know that game of coordination when you try and pat you head with one hand while making circles on your tummy with the other? Well, walking around giving blessings while carrying a crosier and wearing a mitre is a bit like that. Rather demanding on the coordinating skills, may I say. I’m finding the hat a particularly strange sensation; it’s going to take a bit of getting used to.
Amongst all the intriguing aspects of tonight’s ordination, I am sure you noticed when His Eminence invested me with the three symbols of the apostolic ministry: the hat, the staff and the ring. But, did you notice what he said when he placed the mitre on my head? In fact, he said nothing; it was done is silence. And this is only appropriate, because it is the least significant of the symbols.

We might say it distinguishes the place of a bishop within the communion of the Church gathered in worship, just like vestments are worn by priests, and just as all of you are suitably dressed for the occasion. The mitre adds some distinction and dignity to the liturgical occasion, but it gets taken off when not needed.
Of course, the pastoral staff, or crozier, has a more significant symbolic value. It is, as His Eminence said, the sign of a bishop’s role as shepherd for God’s people. And may I be one that is after the heart of Jesus. Yet even the staff is not an essential sign of the apostolic ministry. An auxiliary bishop, for example, carries it only in certain limited circumstances, and as you will have noticed, none of the other bishops have their crosiers with them tonight. Like the mitre, the crozier has its value, but it too gets put aside.

It is a strange thing, however, that it is the hat and the staff that are the most obviously different things about me this evening. The two symbols that get taken off or put aside are the two things that stand out and will attract most of the ‘oohs and aahs’. Yet, the one truly essential symbol of the apostolic ministry, the one that is always to be wore and never set aside, is the one thing that probably gets least noticed, if not missed altogether. It is the ring.
Such a small, seemingly insignificant thing is a ring. Most people wear one, and mostly it is ‘just there’ with you all the time. Yet, the ring I’m now wearing is the really significant sign of all that has happened tonight.
Remember those words that Cardinal Pell said to me as he put it on my finger: “Take this ring, the seal of your fidelity.” This little band of metal is to be the sign of my fidelity to Christ and his Church. It is a seal of faithfulness not to be broken.
Yet, may I be so bold as to say that the words his Eminence spoke, and which I am now to take on as my own, are not really the first words that need to be heard about this ring. First and foremost are some words of Jesus: “take this ring, Peter, as a seal of my faithfulness to you; it is the sign that I have always remained with you and always will.” So, amongst all my own infidelities, both from my past and, no doubt, into the future, the Lord nonetheless has said to me tonight: you are mine, and always will be.
What the Lord once said to the people of Israel, he has repeated here tonight: “I will not abandon you, because my heart will not let me.” (Hos 11) The ring of a bishop is the sign, first and foremost, of God’s own heart: he will not let us go, he will not abandon us to our own unfaithfulness. I am to wear it now not because I have been faithful to God, but because God has been faithful to me.
I am to wear it as a witness to you that even a sinner like me has received that love of which there can be no greater (Jn 15). It is to be worn as a proof to you that God will love you to the very end. This little ring is the answer that the Apostle Peter said we need to have ready when we are asked about the reason for the hope that we have (1Pet 3).

For whatever mysterious reason God had in making a choice of me as a bishop, I am now his witness for you of his fidelity to us all. So in this ring is not only the seal of God’s love for me, but also the seal of our communion in the Lord. Here, in this ring God carries my family who have loved and nurtured me and put up with me; carried here also are my friends from all parts and places of my life, and from all the years of my life; carried here are the priests and people of Wollongong, whom I sadly leave tonight, along with the priests and people of Sydney, whom I gladly join tonight. In this ring God will always carry in his heart those who have loved me, and those whom I have loved.
So, a bishop’s ring is a wee thing, but a mighty symbol: it is the seal of God’s abiding love present in a bishop’s apostolic ministry to God’s people, no matter how well or poorly he exercises it. It is a constant witness to his call to serve God in his people. As St Irenaeus has put it: “God did not call me for any service I might render him; God called me because he knew that in his service I would be happy.”
Hats will be taken off, and staffs will be put aside. But the ring is always to be worn.

Well, its a week since the Ordination. Thank you to all those many people who were able to be there, and thank you to all those who couldn't make it but were there in spirit. I thought it was a wonderful expression of the gathered Church. I hope you found it a moment of spiritual renewal.

Personally, I must say one of the most moving aspects of it all was the fact that, for first time in my life, all the various groups of people who have been significant to me - family, friends old and new, collegues, parishioners - were gathered together in the one place with God. It did my heart much good.

A number of people commented on the address given towards the end of the Mass. The ideas for it come during the retreat I did a couple of weeks ago. Of course, such words, when they touch something in the mind and heart of others, really indicate that they have come from the Lord. I'm just the messager. I would like to acknowledge, however, Sr Hilda from the Benedictine Abbey in Jamberoo for her guidance during the retreat and her instrumetal role in bring forth the Holy Spirit's inspiration. I've added a copy of the address in a separate posting, for anyone who might want to read it.

Finally, I'm told that the following photo is proof that the Church has always been a trend setter, and that the world in only now catching up. I present to you the very ancient practice of episcopal planking!

(Thanks to Daniel Hopper for his great photos of the Ordination - check out his wonderful montage at: www.youtube.com/watch?v=9fbwC0mmD1w)

Tonight I will be ordained as an auxiliary bishop of the Catholic Church for the Archdiocese of Sydney, and so will take up the apostolic ministry.

So, it seems as good a day as any to begin a blog. But where to begin?

Perhaps a word on the blog title - 'Mind | Heart' - might be in order. The English Jesuit Martin C D'Arcy wrote a book in the 1940s called 'The Mind and Heart of Love: Lion and Unicorn, A Study in Eros and Agape' (Faber, 1947). D'Arcy was responding to another book written at that time which had separated out these two loves, and relating the true love of God only to that of an agape kind of love. Against this dualistic view, D'Arcy wanted to ensure that the Christian understanding of God's love for his creation will always find expression in the various loves that mark the lives of human beings. Not only is Christian love an act of the mind, but it is also and equally a movement of the heart. For D'Arcy, this twofold love is symbolised in the heraldic images of the lion and the unicorn, respectively.

It is this meaning of the mind and heart of love - a love that is the answer to the reason for the hope we have in Christ Jesus (cf. 1Peter3.15) - that is to be read into images of the lion and the unicorn that appear in the episcopal coat of arms I have adopted. And hence, a blog called: 'Mind | Heart'.

I am not sure how often I might get around to adding contributions to this blog, but if you have found your way here, I do hope that it might bring to you a reason or two for the hope that is to be found in proclaiming a crucified Christ (1Cor1.23) to a world that is fast becoming indifferent to that love of his, of which there is no greater (Jn15.13).