Reflections from Papua New Guinea:

This is my first reflection of the new year.

I returned to PNG on Sunday the 22^nd and learned of the death of Father John Demesi, one of our lecturers, on Monday. He had been killed by a falling tree while riding a pmv back to the college from town. His wife, Mother Rachel, was also severely injured. Her left hand has been amputated as well as three fingers on her right hand. This week has been devoted to hosting all the mourners who have come to the college. The burial is likely to be on Wednesday or Thursday (Feb 1 or 2). Orientation for the incoming students has been postponed until after the burial. Thanks to everyone for their prayers during this time. One of the things that has struck me during this week as that the community life at the college seems to be resurrecting. Everyone has been pitching in to do the cooking, gathering fire wood, and other tasks. Even the incoming students who never met Father John have been involved with the numerous activities. We seem to be pulling together. I have experienced other times when communities have come together in the aftermath of disaster. This is another in the list that includes Sept 11, and various blackouts, blizzards, floods, earthquakes and hurricanes. There is something about adversity that draws people together and fosters a sense of community.

Another aspect of community, one that I experienced during my break in the US this past December and January, is the sharing of happiness and success. I was greatly relieved to realize the support that my SSF brothers have for my ministry at the college. I had been fearful that they would have begrudged my not being in the US at a time when the brothers there are feeling particularly stretched. But this was not the case. Their interest in and support of my work was very reassuring. Visiting friends and other former missionaries was also great. My Mom and the rest of the family have also demonstrated their appreciation and understanding of my being so far away. Even my parish (St Aidan's) in San Francisco still had my name tag ready for my use, even though I was only able to visit there one time during my break and hadn't been there for two years. It was a sign of their still regarding me as a member of their community.

Sharing adversity and happiness and supporting each other in good times and bad (sounds almost like marriage vows) is what makes community. Community is the antidote to estrangement and thrives when there can be unity without demanding uniformity.

Fr John's Funeral

Friday was Fr John's funeral. Mother Rachel was able to return to the college on Wednesday. The body arrived at the college on Thursday afternoon and was placed in the haus krai where I led the community in a shorten form of Evening Prayer. After a short while in the haus krai, the coffin was taken to the chapel where it remained overnight. Various groups kept the body company all through the night. Sometimes singing, sometimes praying aloud and sometimes with silence. On Friday morning Bishop Rhynold, a retired bishop who serves as the college chaplain, presided at the requiem mass. Kr Klower, a member of the College Council, preached and the bishop-elect of Popondota also attended, as did about a dozen of the diocesan clergy. The third-year students were coffin bearers. George, our 4^th year student, was the thurifer and John Ogaita, a new deacon who graduated from Newton College in November and I served as the deacons. After the service we all went to Sangara, which is the parish where Fr John is from, where he was buried. Mother Rachel was able to attend the service and the burial. After the burial we had a feast at Sangara and got back to the college late in the afternoon. Saturday we had a feast at the college (3 pigs) which ended the mourning. On Sunday we had the opening mass for the new term and a bung kai in the afternoon after which the haus krai (house cry - a temporary shelter made from bush material) was dismantled.

Where is Father Gabriel?

There is still no indication of when Father Gabriel will arrive at the college. Father Russell retired at the end of next year and Father Gabriel, a recent graduate from Martin Luther Seminary in Lae, was to come to be a lecturer at the college in his place. The untimely death of Father John means that at the moment there is not a priest at the college. Dick Kolai, the other lecturer, is a layman and I am a deacon. Fortunately Bishop Rhynold, who lives near the friary, has been coming a couple of times a week to celebrate the Eucharist for us. The other days I am doing communion from the reserved Sacrament. I know that this is not ideal but it is the best that we can do under the circumstances. Fr Gabriel's delay is because of the rough seas that prevent him from being able to get from his village to Kimbe where he can get a boat to Lae and then another boat from there to Oro Bay which is near the college. Rough seas and untimely deaths. We don't have control over either. All we can do is "roll with the punches" and know that even in the midst of darkness that the Light of Christ is still present. And that is enough. During these last few weeks I have known that the college and I are being upheld in prayer and we have experienced Christ's continued presence through the kindness of others and the reserved Sacrament in as real a way as everything was back to normal. In fact, perhaps the abnormality makes His presence more real. So let us thank God for the inconveniences as well as the blessings.Saturday evening a group from the neighbouring area came and preached at the college community saying that Fr John's death was a sign that the college was under a curse and that somebody was practicing sorcery. This greatly upset the college community and we have been trying to counteract this impression. Two Four-Square pastors were killed in the same accident that killed Father John. But this group totally disregarded them by saying that the accident was God's vengeance on the Anglican Church. I was reminded of what it was like after Sept 11 when people made accusations based on selected data and fore-drawn conclusions. It is tempting to use proof-texts and pick and choose what fits into our world view but our faith is more than that. It has to take reason and revelation into account. A faith or theology built on half-truth and eisegesis (reading our own ideas into the text) rather than exegesis (trying to discern what the text is really saying) is dangerous and is not worthy of the One we believe to the The Way, The Truth, and The Life.

Back to Normal

Things are getting back to normal. Father Gabriel arrived on Thursday afternoon and is now settling in. The archbishop came on Friday and met with the students to set their minds at ease. The Bishop of Popondota was consecrated on Sunday (the 19^th) and classes finally started on the 20^th. So we are starting class about one month late, but we will be able to make up for the lost time. The social hall (which was held up by rotten posts) has been torn down and will be dismantled during the coming weeks. This term I am teaching Church History (the first 500 years), Sacramental Theology, and liturgy and English. I've hired a part-time lecturer to teach three classes on Thursdays. Mother Rachel is continuing to recover and two of her children have returned to school. The students all seem eager and are certainly hard working (during the work parade today we cut grass from the library all the way down to Dick Kolai's house - a distance that would have taken last year's students 3 work parades). It feels as though we are regaining our equilibrium and now we are preparing for Lent which starts one week from today. I expect that this year Lent may not be (for me) as much a time of penitence (although there will be some of that, for sure) but a preparation for Easter. I feel as though the chaos of the beginning of this year is going to reveal something wonderful. As if the dry bones of Ezekiel's valley which felt "clean cut off and without hope" are hearing the rushing of the spirit bringing new life and now awaiting to be restored as Israel's army. I am awaiting the Resurrection and wanting Lent to be an ushering in of that rather than more gloom and sadness. (But of course I will take whatever God sends.)

I am reminded of the Percy Dearmer hymn

Now quit your care and anxious fear and worry; for schemes are vain and fretting brings no gain. Lent calls to prayer, to trust and dedication; God brings new beauty nigh; reply, reply,

reply with love to love most high.

To bow the head in sackcloth and in ashes, or rend the soul, such grief is not Lent's goal;

but to be led to where God's glory flashes, his beauty to come near. Make clear, make clear,

make clear where truth and light appear.

Then shall your light break forth as doth the morning; your health shall spring, the friends you make shall bring God's glory bright, your way through life adorning; and love shall be the prize. Arise, arise, arise! and make a paradise!

Community

Tonight the students elected their office bearers. Walsten is their new president. The others are all first-year students. They have also made their appointments to the various committees. At our staff meeting this past week we made our appointments. Dick, the deputy principal, is also the academic dean and in charge of gardens. Fr Gabriel is the Dean of Students and chaplain to the Mothers Union and I have responsibility for administration and maintenance. This coming week the mothers will elect their office bearers. I still notice how the use the term office bearer rather than office holder and want to make that distinction an important part of my understanding. But this week I am struck by how the various responsibilities are divided amongst the community and how everyone is working together. I really sense that we have a stronger community here this year than we did last year and that feels good. Instilling a sense of community may well be my gift to the college and if so, I am quite happy for that to be my legacy. Last night I gave out copies of the St Athanasius Hymnal (our chapel is dedicated to St Athanasius). This hymnal supplement has some mass settings, choruses, and hymns in Pidgin and various local languages. Some of the students noticed that it did not yet have hymns in their language but were happy to learn that additional hymns can be easily added to the hymnal. Part of being a community means that we can sing hymns in a language that is not familiar to us because it is the native tongue of another member of our community. Students seem to enjoy singing "in language" even when it is not their own. It is the give and take, the willing taking on of the burden of an office or doing some task that makes community real. This week the students also decided to take on an hour of penance each week during Lent. This means working without talking one day between noon and 1 p.m. Last week we pulled down the social hall. For penance they will be taking off the tin roof and setting it aside for future use. This will be hot work but cheerfully undertaken. It will begin and end with prayer. The community working and praying together and sharing responsibilities and supporting each other. A community forming at the heart of the college. Thanks be to God.

Diversity and Unity

A number of the students of the college are of a charismatic bent while the college, like the church in PNG, is more of an Anglo-Catholic inclination. All of the students are very good about coming to the chapel for Morning and Evening Prayer and the daily Eucharist, but some are looking for additional ways that they can respond to the ways that the Spirit seems to be leading them. So a group of them started having fellowship in the chapel on Saturday evenings. One of the other lecturers joins them and is working with them. This is a voluntary activity. Another voluntary activity that we have initiated is a half hour of adoration before the Blessed Sacrament once a week. A number of the students find this devotion to be helping their relationship with God. So in addition to the daily round we have fellowship and adoration and during Lent an hour of penance and Compline. This strikes me as a wonderfully Anglican situation. Anglo-Catholics and Charismatic Evangelicals living, praying and studying together. And yet each supplementing the corporate liturgical life with other devotions that nurture them. To be sure, there is also a third group which does not join in either of these extra-liturgical events. There doesn't seem to be rivalry or friction between these three groups. They respect each other and cooperate with each other. They recognize that there are a variety of ways of worshipping God within the Anglican tradition. We are a communion- a family, not a confederation of like-minded people. There can be stresses and strains when people don't all act the same but there is also health in being free to become who God made you to be and to nurture that relationship in ways that differ from others. Once again I am struck that unity is not the same as sameness. Unity demands diversity. And as Christians we have a model of diversity in unity: the Trinity.

Long-long

A young man calling himself Queen Alexandria II came to see me this morning. This is not the first time that I have been confronted with self-styled royalty or someone whom the people here call long-long. I don't know why it is but sometimes these eccentrics find their way into the church and especially, it seems, to religious orders. Perhaps it is because they are seeking sanctuary and look to the church to provide that. Perhaps they have run out of alternatives and so the church is their last resort. Perhaps they are long-long because they have had some sort of spiritual experience (whether drug-induced or not) that they are seeking to respond to. The why isn't important. The reality is that they are children of God like the rest of us and sometimes get it right and sometimes get it wrong. Our Bible study this morning was on the Mark 8 passage of Jesus's saying to Peter "Get behind me, Satan" This is just after Peter identify's Jesus as the Christ (which elsewhere elicits the response, this didn't come from you but from God) and just before the Transfiguration (when Peter blurts out about wanting to build three booths). Peter sometimes is right on the mark and sometimes off base. These long-long people often seem to be off base but sometimes may be right on the mark. They need to be listened to but not always believed nor to be written off automatically. As we respond to the long-long among us we are responding to the Christ in whose name they come.

Worry about the Truck

Saturday I went to test drive a truck. It is a mazda four-wheel drive double cab with about 98,000 kilometres. It is being sold by the local garage that also rents vehicles. It was one of their rental fleet but had not been used for about a year and a half. I looked at it on Thursday and was told that I could test in on Saturday. Saturday morning I went but the head mechanic said that he was wanting to give it a thorough check over before we bought it. He had all the wheels off to check the brakes and clutch. He said to come back on Monday. It is now Wednesday evening and it still is not ready to test-drive. A part of me is anxious about wanting to get the vehicle now. Another part is glad that it is being given a thorough check first. In PNG mail (even airmail) can take two months to get to me. Sometimes the shops run out of a staple and it can takes weeks to get more. (I am anxiously awaiting the next delivery of Kraft process cheese.) Time takes on a different meaning. And yet I am anxious about the truck. It will be ready when it is ready. The delay may even be a good thing. And yet I am anxious. I want to be able to stop worrying about the college not having a vehicle. But I am sure that I will then find something else that can cause me worry if something inside me want something to worry about. "Fear not," Jesus said, "don't be afraid." And yet I am anxious. Why am I having trouble letting go and letting God. I don't know. And maybe I don't have to know. Maybe I just need to remember the old hymn: This is my Father's world. O let me ne'er forget that though the wrong seem oft so strong, God is the ruler yet."

Graduation

30 Nov 2005

Friday was graduation. Fr Joe Kopapa was the guest of honour and the preacher at the Mass that preceded the graduation proper. The second-year students worked hard to get everything ready for the big day. The graduating students were all busy hosting people who had come to witness their graduation. Two students received certificates, the other 10 received diplomas. Their wives received certificates for completing the women's program. After all the speeches and awarding of degrees and certificates there were two special presentations. The first was the naming of the Father Russell Kingsford Baramani Staff Room. Fr Russell is retiring from teaching at the end of the year and returning to parish ministry in the diocese of Dogura. He has served the college as lecturer, acting principal and deputy principal for many years. Naming the staff room after him seemed an appropriate way of honouring him for this self-less service to the college. The second presentation was a group from one of the parishes presenting a pig and other offerings to the college staff as a thank-you for caring for one of their parishioners (a graduating student and his wife). Then we had a breakfast. The students from Aipo-Rongo needed to leave soon after so that they could get the weekly boat to Lae. The other students will be leaving over the next week or so. I left on Sunday to return to the US for a break before returning for the 2006 academic year. While I was crossing the pacific there one of the trees at the college fell over and crushed the garage shed. Apparently the truck and the tractor were both severely damaged but the generator shed and power-grid were unscathed. The truck is the college's only transportation and is used for taking children to school as well as bringing supplies to the college. Its loss is a real blow. Fr John is in charge during my absence and Dick is the deputy principal so there are people at the college who can deal with this on-site but I know that there isn't any money to replace or repair the truck and that this will be a major problem when I return next year. What I am needing to do, though, is to let go and let God. There is nothing I can do about the situation and so I need to not worry about it and let God, Fr John and Dick take care of things. There is nothing that I can do about it (except pray). To return to the college refreshed and rested and ready for the next two years is what is mine to do. Once again I am confronted with the way the Body of Christ works. We do what we can and leave the rest to others to do what they can and allow God to make sure that everything that needs to be done is done. That can be difficult and sometimes (like now) it seems like shirking responsibility but knowing (and accepting) my limitations and allowing others to do what is theirs to do is the way the Body functions. So may God give me the grace to continue to care and do what I can but also the grace to let go and allow others to carry on.

My Brother has AIDS

25 Oct 2005

"My brother came to see me this week and he has AIDS" one of the members of the college community confided to me. "I was able to counsel him like we have been taught," he added. After the conversation finished I was left wondering how his brother somehow stopped being his brother and instead became a person with AIDS. The AIDS-infected person is now back in his village where he (if the response of his brother is any indication) may now be regarded mainly as a person with AIDS rather than as a village member who happens to have AIDS. What we have been trying to teach (and I now understand that we have not been totally successful) is that a person with AIDS is like any other person. There are certain precautions that need to be taken - often to help the person from contracting an opportunistic disease - but the person doesn't stop being who they have always been because they have become infected with a virus. Then I began to realize that there are other times when a person takes on something that should merely be an added identity and instead it is regarded as the entirety of the person. A doctor who attends a social gathering is often asked for medical advice because he is regarded primarily as a doctor rather than as a person with other interests and identities. True, he never stops being a doctor and in an emergency may need to respond, but that is only part of who he is. When he is at a club meeting, for example, he is then primarily a member of that club: he doesn't stop being a doctor but being one fades into the background as other aspects of his person take the fore Sometimes, too, I have known people who hold on so tightly to a part of who they are that they almost force it to become their identity. I have known priests who forget that they are also husbands and fathers. We are all highly complex beings: there are many parts of our personalities and our makeup. We need to hold them all in balance and we need to allow other people to also be whole human beings with strengths and weaknesses. We cannot focus on just one aspect (like profession or gender or sickness) and allow it to become so predominant that we lose sight of the rest of who the person is. We are all sinners; but we are also redeemed and beloved children of God.

Brother Fire

11 Oct 2005

We have been having trouble with our water supply at the college. At first it was the pump and then it was the gen set that runs the pump. Last weekend the gen set caught fire and completely destroyed the generator shed by the pump. Fortunately the water tank was only warped and still holds water and the pump was unaffected. But we had to buy a new gen set and temporarily install it under the water tanks until we can rebuild the shed. This puts a real strain on our finances since we never anticipated having to spend almost 5,000 kina (1500 USD) for a new gen set. This was after having to replace the head and other parts in the truck engine. I am filling out an insurance claim but that will take time to process. When I went up to assess the damage after the fire I found myself recalling St Francis' reference to Brother Fire: My Lord be praised by Brother Fire. I don't think of fire and destruction as praising God. Yesterday we had a group of students from Martyrs Memorial High School with us at the college. After mass they presented a drama depicting the martyrdom of the missionaries killed in this province during WWII. The name of the drama was blut em i sid (Blood: it is the seed) reminding us that unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies it remains only a single grain.) So maybe our gen set dying will also bring forth new growth and vitality. At least that is my hope.

Anticipation

3 Oct 2005

We've just completed the first week of the last quarter of classes. This term I am teaching reformation thought, Anglicanism and liturgy as well as doing some computer classes in the evening. Jennifer, our volunteer librarian from Canada, returned home yesterday after her year here. We are starting to make plans for graduation (25^th November) and for the departure of the graduating students. Most of the 2^nd year students will also be going for a break. One staff retires from teaching at the end of the year and returns to Dogura. And I am beginning to plan for my own time of R&R. I am expecting to go back to the US on the 29^th of November and to be there about 2 months. In addition to having a retreat, relaxing and doing some preparations for next year I am trying to make arrangements to visit my mother and my Franciscan brothers at Little Portion (Long Island) and in Brooklyn. There are also a few friends that I hope to see. On the one hand two months break sounds like a long time but on the other it doesn't seem quite long enough to do everything I think I want to do and to see everyone I want to see. As I mull over whether 2 months is a long time or a too-short time I am realizing that PNG has had an affect on my understanding of time. Here time tends to be relative. We may agree to do something at a certain time but any number of things may mean that it will be earlier or later or maybe not even happen at all. When the college water pump isn't working we have to take time to go to the river for washing and fetching water. This can mean that our time table may need to be altered. If the truck breaks down or there isn't any diesel available in town, then travel plans need to be changed and this can affect when things will start or finish. Most people do not have phones and so somebody might show up at your front door to visit (and frequently spend the night) with you and this can cause delay or cancellation of other plans. Instead of getting angry when things don't happen at the expected time there tends to be a sense of awareness that this is the way things are. The college tries to impose a time table (ringing a bell to summon people to chapel and class) but even this has to be subject to changes. I suspect that this kind of ambivalence to clock time is something that PNG has in common with 1^st Century Palestine/Israel. People felt free to set other tasks and responsibilities aside to go to listen to Jesus or the Apostles or John the Baptist. When Jesus spoke to large crowds they didn't all have to request time off from work or play hooky from other responsibilities. There must have been a freedom to respond to situations as they arose and to "go with the flow". So I may or may not see everyone I want to see and do everything I want to do on my break or not. But the important thing is that I live each moment of the break (as indeed I need to try to do everyday) and to respond to the opportunities that God presents each day, recognizing that there will be some constraints (like airline schedules and reservations) but that there is more flexibility in how I spend my time than I often realize.

Independence Day

20 Sept 2005

Friday was Independence Day. In fact it was the 30^th anniversary of PNG receiving independence. Independence here seems different than in the US. There the colonists fought for and won their independence from Britain and then had to set up their own form of government and al.. Here Australia prepared the nationals to take over the systems of governance, education, finance, and the like. So independence here means having to continue systems that were set in place by foreign powers that are sometimes at odds with the cultural ways of doing things. It is like what we seem to be trying to do in Iraq. Independence, it seems to me, needs to be having the freedom to set up the governance and other systems that make sense to the people being governed. This needs to be true, not just for countries but for other groups that are given freedom from parent organizations. They may keep things the way they were, or not, but need to be free to make that choice (those choices) themselves.

To be given independence has to mean something different than just cutting apron strings. It needs to give freedom to make mistakes and learn from them. God gave human beings independence when he gave them free will. And just as an aside, it is interdependence - based on Paul's analogy of the Body of Christ being made of many members - that is the goal for which we - nations, groups, individuals - need to be striving.

Local and Global

7 Sept 2005

Last week I was in Lae, which is the second city of Papua New Guinea. The purpose of the visit was to attend the meetings of the College Council (Newton College governing body), the Provincial Council (the governing body of the Anglican Church in PNG) and a workshop on main streaming HIV/AIDS. I arrived on Sunday in the middle of a rain storm. A couple of days earlier another rain storm had eroded parts of the road and damaged one of the bridges. Repairs had been done, but it was easy to see where all the damage had been. We spent the week at a conference centre about 8 miles out of town. There was no phone and I only saw one paper during the week. The council meetings were like others of the kind. There are some personality types that are universal. I was impressed with the way the meetings went. Each day started with Morning Prayer and Mass at 6:30 and the sessions ended with Evening Prayer at 5:00. I was impressed with the attention that was given the pastoral issues on the agendas. I left Lae on Sunday morning and was in Port Moresby by 8:00 and so was able to attend the 9:00 Eucharist at St Francis Church in Koke. It was the celebration of the Martyrs of Papua New Guinea. At the time of the sermon, twelve of the youths each came forward carrying a candle signifying one of the martyrs. The name was called out and a short biography read as each candle was lit from the paschal candle and then placed on a tray in front of the altar. It wasn't until I got to the airport and happened to pick up an Australian newspaper that I found out about the hurricane Katrina and the havoc it wreaked in New Orleans. It made the rains and flooding in Lae seem like nothing. I could image the pastoral work needed to serve all those stranded by the flooding and the workers who will have to clean up. Having served as a chaplain at the morgue at the World Trade Centre recovery and clean up processes, I have an empathy for the pastoral work that will need to be done there. I am struck at how things close at hand take on an importance that isn't put into perspective until it encounters something on a much larger scale. The rain and flooding in Lae seemed important there but pales when compared to New Orleans. The pastoral work of the council meetings can't hold a candle to the pastoral work of a "ground zero" whether it be the WTC or Louisiana. Perhaps, as awful as they are, disasters and catastrophes help us to keep things in perspective. When I was doing CPE at St Luke's Hospital in New York City I was told of a previous "Chaplain in training" who was blind and that when he made his rounds visiting patients that they suddenly didn't think that their own ailments were as serious. Something takes the focus away from me, mine, and the local situation and lets me regain a sense of proportion.

Sego and the Kingdom

28 August 2005

Saturday the brothers came over and asked if I could drive the college truck down to Eroro to get some sago for them to repair their haus win (shelter). They had asked some of the companions (associates) to sew the sago (palm fronds are folded over a stick and sewn in place. These are then used like roofing shingles. The brothers have come to the college's help with their vehicle when we've been stuck and so I agreed to do this. Brother Smith and two novices (Dominic and Heniel) went with me. Eroro is near Oro Bay and was the site of a large American base during World War II. We loaded the truck with the sago and returned to the friary. The trip was uneventful and in many ways inconsequential. What struck me though was the way that it all came together. In a country where money is often hard to come by there are still ways that people help each other. Weaving mats, sewing sago, food offerings, helping with gardening, etc. All of these are ways of helping without having to pay money. The message that the friars needed sago was relayed to the village (There is no post office there). The companions and others sewed the sago and then sent word back that they were ready. Then the brothers came to ask me to drive down. When we got back to the friary there were a group of women there from a nearby village who were busy helping the brothers get ready for a large group that would be arriving on Sunday for a two-week workshop. There seems to be a real flexibility of time. What doesn't get done today will get done tomorrow but if something needs to be done today, then everyone pitches in to get it done letting their own work slide. This is another attribute of community life: putting the needs of the community and other members of it on a level on a par with your own. So that rather than sharing from surplus there is really a sense of holding things (and time) in common. Living in the present, letting your needs be known, a willingness to meet the needs of others and allowing others to help you meet yours. This is what life in the Kingdom, is meant to be and I am learning, I hope, to meet this challenge.

Snake Bites and Redemption

14 August 2005

I am just back from a hospital run. The college has a pick-up which we use mostly for transporting kids to and from school as well as taking students (Fridays) and Staff (Saturdays) shopping and assorted admin runs. But at night it becomes an ambulance. There aren't any vehicles in the neighbouring villages and so when there is a medical emergency at night we get called on to take them to the hospital. Sometimes it is a woman going into labour. Sometimes an asthma attack. But tonight it was for a snake bite. There are several kinds of poisonous snakes around. Usually they try to get away from you if they hear you coming. But a female snake with a nest is something else. Centipedes also have nasty bites. I am usually the one who does the night runs. The college has two drivers who work weekdays. One does mornings and the other afternoons and evenings. On weekends students (three of them drive) and the one other staff who drive do most of the day time driving and will do a night drive if it is known about (the other night we had to get the medic to do a midnight injection - three injections 6 hours apart seems to be a cure all- and one of the students volunteered to do that run). But since I drive and am the one that security notifies when there is an emergency, it makes sense for me to be the one to do it. It doesn't happen every night and sometimes a week or two goes by without one and then there will be a night or two when my sleep is interrupted. For there part the neighbours also help the college. Sometimes it is food offerings. Sometimes it is helping us with mechanical work or help cutting the grass. People help each other. This past week we offered two broken down stoves and 4 non-working refridgerators that have been laying around gathering dust to nearby villages. They were gratefully welcomed. The stoves now are fire places for cooking and the fridges have found new purposes. The college is glad to be rid of them and the neighbours glad to receive them. One of the things I am noticing is that there are times when compensation or payment is demanded and there are times when gifts are freely given and received. The College Press has a few titles on sale and noone begrudges paying for the books we have, but there are also times when the college gives away a book as a form of advertising (there aren't a whole lot of ways to let people know what books we have for sale). To pay or to give? To receive or to buy? Those are real questions. You can cheapen a gift by offering payment. Not paying for something when payment is expected can lead to demands for compensation. I wonder how much our struggles with knowing when to pay and when not to pay affects our understanding of redemption. Do we accept redemption as a gift or do we need to pay or do something in exchange? To put it bluntly: Is going to church the price we pay for Christ's dying on the cross for us? Grace cannot be earned, only acknowledged and accepted, but is that acknowledgement and acceptance payment of a type?

Gratitude

1 August 2005

The second year students are doing field work (practical pastoral experience) this term. They are working out of the cathedral parish which has 13 outstations as well as the cathedral itself. There are three priests who serve this parish. Each student is spending 4 weekends at one of the outstations and then another three weekends at a different one. They get dropped off on Friday afternoons with their sleeping bags, mosquito nets, kerosene and food (3 kg rice, 2 tins of fish, 2 tins of corned beef, 3 packets of pot noodles, 3 packages of hard tack, tea/coffee, sugar). Then of Sunday afternoon I go to pick them up. Two are working fairly close to the college. One is at the cathedral. Two are on the road going towards the saw mill. (Actually one is at a village just off the road, the other is 5 or 6 kilometres from the road) and one is the opposite direction. To get there you have to ford two creeks and it is about 8 kilometres on fairly rough road. They seem to be enjoying their field work and finding that it is a confirmation of their call to become priests. Many of these stations (chapels) have an evangelist providing routine pastoral care and leading services with the priest coming in once a month or so. I have been hearing from the church councillors (like the vestry) that they are pleased that the college is sending students to them. This seems to be the first time in a long time that they have received students. Last weekend I also took communion to the tambu (in-law) of one of the students who was in hospital. There were about a dozen other patients in the ward (male and female) who also wanted to receive communion (they were all Anglicans). The miracle of the loaves and fishes was almost duplicated since I had only taken a few wafers with me. Both in the villages and in the hospital people are so grateful for what seems to be such a little thing. When someone arrives with a food offering or even just for a visit, the greeting of "oro oro" expresses welcome and gratitude. Gratitude. Thanksgiving for little things. Thanksgiving for not being overlooked or forgotten. Gratitude for just coming to visit. It is sometimes difficult to tell which is the "giver" and which is the "receiver" because the emphasis is on the exchange with people sometimes not even aware of what each is giving and each is receiving. In the hospital I was receiving the experience of "thinness" where earth and heaven seem to be joined. The student who was with me said he felt that the hospital ward seemed like a bit of heaven to him. The students doing their pastoral assignments receive confirmation as they share their faith with the villagers and allow the villagers to share their faith with them. I am grateful for the reminder of what it means to be truly thankful.

Tin Fish

24 July 2005

Tin fish is one of the protein staples in the PNG diet, at least around here. Tuna and mackerel are the main ones. Tuna is usually skipjack tuna rather than the albacore that we are used to in the states. The other day I noticed that one of the stores was stocking Solomon Blue tuna- imported from the Solomon Islands. The label had two different notices obviously designed to appeal to two different kinds of people. The one said "driftnet free" the other was in Solomon Island pidgin: "Skipjack tuna wetem oel. Taem iu openem tin finis no livim fish insaet." Meaning "skipjack tuna with oil. When you open this tin there will not be any living fish inside." I wonder why Soltai Fishing and Processing felt it necessary to have this kind of warning or explanation on the label. But then I realized that in the US when you buy a cup of coffee it, or the cardboard wrap-around, says that the container has hot liquid inside. A few years ago when I visited Auckland one of the brothers was explaining the difference between Australia and New Zealand. Australia, he said, was settled by prisoners and the world view of Australians tends to still bear remnants of that mentality. Signs warn of the consequences of actions. (Stepping on the lawn may have a $50 fine.) New Zealand was settled by community groups and so there is a different mentality. A public park at the top of a crest did not have any kind of fence or rail near a cliff. When I mentioned it I was told that if someone was stupid enough to go near the cliff, that he deserved whatever might happen to him. During my lifetime I have seen this change in the US from a community-based ethos to a do-this-and -suffer-the-consequences one. Signs warning of fines and points for speeding are almost as frequent as speed-limit signs of HOV lane markings. Here in PNG the community-based mentality seems to be predominate. There have been some robberies in town the last few weeks. People's response is that they seem offended and upset by them rather than dismissing them as an every-day occurrence. In a place where relationships are of primary importance robberies are a breach of relationship. Compensation is necessary to repair relationships. Restoring relationships, not punishing people, seems to be the important response. I suspect that the Kingdom of God has a lot to do about relationships and repairing and maintaining them. So when I see a tin fish label saying that the tin does not have living fish inside, I wonder what relationship that warning statement is seeking to preserve or restore and hope that it is not just to prevent a lawsuit. There is a difference between doing something for a positive purpose rather than just to avoid a negative consequence.

My Computer Screen is Dying

12 July 2005

My computer screen is dying. I use a laptop that I brought to PNG with me. This morning the monitor started acting up and now everything is grey and purple. I am afraid that my screen has had it. I will probably be able to connect an external monitor and continue to use it. But it means that I will now only be able to use it when the generator is running and may not be able to continue to use email to maintain contact. But at over 5 kina (about $2) to send a letter I won't be able to keep up with everyone like I have been. I have been taking my laptop into the diocesan office to use their phone lines since the radio-wire phone at the college only provides a very slow connection. I have been staying at the bishop's house for a couple of days to work on putting the student records into a data base. So I have been using the computer for several hours at a time since there is 24 hour electricity in town. But there is a fan going so the computer should not have overheated. There aren't any computer technicians in Popondetta and the closest dealer/repair shop is in Port Moresby or Lae. So if it dies, it dies. It is surprising how dependent on my laptop I have become. I remember first learning to use a Franklin Ace and then switching to DOS. Back in the days before hard drives when you had a program on one floppy and another for your data. So I have been through the introduction to windows and all its variations. I have to admit that there are times when I long for the simplicity of the old Word Perfect for DOS that had such simple commands to do everything you wanted to do. Here in a country where computers are relatively rare I have been asked to do a lot of computer work for other people and parishes as well as teaching the students how to use them. Computers do make it easier to do some things but their ever growing complexity seems somehow to be a parable for PNG where things are also growing more complex as cash-based economies make it harder and harder for the subsistence farmers to continue to support their families and pay the ever-increasing school fees for their children while the children need more and more education in order to fit into the new economy and structures. Not all progress is good. Sometimes the older, simpler things are better (even if they sometimes take longer). So I will continue to use my computer as long as I can and where I can and when it dies I will find some other way of communication and record keeping.

Custom Dress

5 July 2005

Last week the college hosted forty some evangelists who came for a workshop. Sunday was their closing and it was glorious. Cain, the chairman of the Evangelists Association preached wearing traditional garb. All the evangelists were dressed in albs (white robes) and were seated in the front of the church where they led the singing. Bishop Reynold (retired bishop of Dogura) presided and renewed their commissions as Evangelists. Then we had a big breakfast, speeches, and the awarding of certificates. Then in the afternoon we had a big bung kai with lots of items (skits) following. We have a retired librarian from Canada with us for the year and she had a fellow Canadian visiting her who works with the Lutheran Church in Lae. The three of us dressed in PNG costume (Bonnie (from Lae) and I wore tapa cloth and Jennifer (the librarian) wore a meri blouse. We sang a lament of the Mount Lamington eruption in Oro Kiva (the local language). We were a big hit! Some of the students had never before encountered a fair skinned person dressed in their custom and they were deeply moved. They were also surprised that we knew the song (it is an old one and not used much anymore, apparently - we had learned it the night before from another Expat who has worked in PNG with AusAID for 30 years or more.) Such an easy thing: wearing a loin cloth, shell necklaces and feathers; but for them it was a big thing. Once again it is little things that count.

Living in the present

28 June 05

This week the evangelists of Popondota diocese are having a workshop at the college. Thursday (while our students were still on retreat at a village on the north coast) they started to arrive and then went over to Hetune - the convent of the Sisters of the Visitation - for a retreat. They came back on Saturday afternoon (instead of Sun morning as had been the plan) and but the students responded with a warm and enthusiastic welcome and rearranged their schedule (which included giving their wives a chance to meet with Bro Augustine who had led the students' retreat) to accommodate this change of plans. The evangelists have continued to arrive. We were told there would be 30 of them which we would cater and then we were told that there would be 12 wives with them to do the cooking. Then only 4 or 3 wives came and we are now up to 47 Evangelists. They are sleeping in two of the unused staff houses and some of the single men's quarters and have moved into the classrooms. The evangelists are leading Morning and Evening Prayer each day this week and assisting at the Mass. Each one of them leads the worship differently but none of them lead it the way we are used to at the college. And I have not heard one word of complaint from the students. Adapting to ever-changing situations seems to be a normal part of their lives. I think that this adaptability is what it means to live in the present moment. It can be hard for someone, like me, who likes to plan ahead and prepare for things but that seems to be my "dim dim" perspective. It can be frustrating at times like when I am told at 6 am that there is no bread or wine in the chapel for the 6:30 mass! But I am learning to roll with the punches, as they say, and so far we have always been able to meet the challenges. So I am learning to "let go and let God" and to enjoy things - and life - as they unfold.

Little Things

20 June 05

Even though I am working in Papua New Guinea, I am still a member of the American Province of SSF. The end of May each year the province has its annual chapter meeting at which all the brothers gather to do discernment and decision making. The sisters of the Community of St Francis have their chapter at the same time and place and there is some time of joint meeting as well. It is too expensive for me to attend the chapter and so I was delighted this past week when I received some photographs taken during the meeting. A couple of them were of actual events (the blessing of Brother Jude as the new minister provincial and the thanksgiving for Derek's service as the out-going minister provincial.). But most were just pictures of brothers and sisters holding a yellow sign that said "Hi Justus". This simple thing made me realize that they were thinking about me even though I wasn't able to be with them. Even the brother who doesn't like his picture taken, was in one of them. These pictures "speak more eloquently than words" (to use a turn of phrase from a speech I used to deliver years ago when I was in DeMolay) of their value of me as a brother. I am glad that they gave me permission to extend my time in PNG but also pleased to know that it was given out of affection rather than begrudgingly. Simple things - like the sign, like the flowers that are often placed on my steps here in PNGto welcome me home - can make a real difference. Thanks to my brothers and sisters for allowing your pictures to be taken. Thanks Ruth for sending them to me and thanks to everyone else who support me and others by doing little things.

Perserverence

12 June 05

This morning the music at the mass was led by the youths from Jonita, the neighbouring village. Many of the responses were "in language" meaning the local tok ples. The Gloria was in English to my favourite Melanesian setting. The hymns were all from the PNG Anglican hymnal but they were supplemented with some choruses. It was glorious! Friday evening the 2nd year students had gone to the village to share dinner and fellowship with them and they extended the invitation to lead the music this morning (they had previously asked me for permission to do this). This visit was a response to one the students had given two weeks ago when many of the villagers came to the college. This kind of initiative is usual for this group of second year students. They have really embraced the weekly Bible studies and other aspects of formation that I have introduced. They are sure of their vocation (at least almost all of them are) and are very responsive to what the college has to offer. Almost half of them come from Jimi up in the highlands where Christianity is relatively recent. They are eager to learn and a joy to teach. The fourth year students are busy anticipating their graduation in November and most are putting finishing touches on their major papers, except for the few who will be receiving certificates instead of diplomas at the end of their course. Many seem more concerned for what the college and church will provide them rather than the service that they can offer to the church. I think that the 4th year students are burning out. I am the third principal the college has had during their time here. Only two lecturers have been with them the whole time. Their sense of community was disrupted when half of them went to CTI for a term last year leaving their classmates behind. And yet they are persevering. Perseverence - the willingness to continue the task one has taken inspite of everything - is an often overlooked virtue. It is more than patience or long-suffering. It has roots in joy (not necessarily happiness) and the quiet confidence that God is ultimately in control even when it doesn't always look like it. There are times - like when one becomes a novice or takes vows in a religious order - that congratulations may not be the right expression. Rather "May God give you the grace to persevere" is frequently said. So out 4th- year students are persevering. My prayer is that they continue to persevere in following their vocations after they are graduated and leave this place. There are any number of hardships ahead of them: pastoral problems coming from abrupt changes in societal norms; the rising incidence of HIV/AIDS; a country and church with little financial infrastructure; and the list goes on. May they persevere in their faith and reliance upon God.

Legacy

07 June 05

On Tuesdays I try to arrange for someone to come to the college to lead a colloquium. Last week it was a team from the health department giving a presentation on Malaria and Filaria both of which are carried by the same mosquitos. One of them pointed out that the hardware and bomb-holes left over from World War II provide breeding grounds for these mosquitos and that is part of the reason that Malaria is so wide-spread in this province. Malaria is one of the vestiges of the war. A sobering thought. There aren't many white-skinned expats in Popondetta. Jennifer (a Canadian who is volunteering as a librarian at the college) and I are the only ones working for the Anglican Church. There is a Baptist minister and two Anzac couples living up at the ridge (formerly a white expat enclave). That is about it. The other night I met another: John. He has been around Popondetta since colonial times (over 30 years). He told stories of how things were and how other things came to be. The main road (that goes to Oro Bay) was built by the Australians during the war and has held up well since then. Of course there are large potholes in town, but basically the road and bridges have withstood the ravages of time and climate. Potholes in town are nothing new. Some time ago someone went out at night and planted banana trees in the large potholes. A picture of them made the Post-Courier newspaper. (It may be time to plant banana trees again.) There used to be two stores that catered to the expats. Then there was one small store (owned by Wing Hay) that did a small business with the nationals who came into town by PMV to buy needles and thread and other small things. Now Wing Hay has taken over both of the expat-oriented stores and several other enterprises. It was hard for me to realize that there had been such a large expat community in Popondetta during colonial times. And what is there to show for it: a good road (except for the potholes) and Malaria. While the folks at the ridge may want to hang-on to the fading glory of the white expat experience, John, Jennifer and I are quite happy fitting into the PNG way of being and doing things. We worry (not overly, but are sensitive to) the privileges that are extended to us. At times I wonder what my legacy will be in this place. Will it be like the good road or Malaria? I will probably never know but I hope it won't be the latter.

Bible Studues

16 May 05

Every Monday morning we do Bible studies. The students are divided into small groups of about 5 and the staff forms a group of its own. We use a leaderless style with someone reading the passage, people then responding with the word, phrase or thought that "sprung out" at them. Another person reads the same text and then we share about what the passage is saying to us today with the various concerns we have. Then another person reads it and each says what he will do to respond to the message. The passage is then read again as a summation of the study. This morning we used the passage for the last day of the Octave of Christian Unity which we keep between Ascension and Pentecost: Mark 9:33-35. As we were talking about what it means to be a servant within the church it was pointed out that every clergyman in ACPNG - whether they are the archbishop, the dean of a cathedral, an assistant priest serving a rural parish, or a lecturer at the college - all receive the same stipend. This is so different from the US where clergy get paid what their parish or diocese determines. It means that ACPNG recognizes that serving in a small parish is as important to the work of the church as being the archbishop. That one part of the body is not more important than another. It is a call to humility and equality/fraternity. This is another side to the parable of the workers in the vineyard being hired at various times of the day but all receiving the same amount. It raises questions of what is fair and just and how do those concepts relate to our life in the church where we believe that we are all part of a body with no part being able to say to another part "I have no need of you."

Isness of God

08 May 05

This term I am teaching several liturgy courses, Liberation Theologies and Exodus. This past week in the Exodus class we were studying the conversation between Moses and God at the burning bush when God declared his name to be "I am who I am". It suddenly dawned on me how this divine name and our belief that we are created in God's image and likeness brings us to an individualistic approach to God. Just as God is who God is, so too, I am who I am. It also dawned on my how different our understanding of God would be if God had been identified as "We are who we are." [The use of the plural for God is consistent with other Old Testament texts where "elohim" is used.] In PNG the stress that we Americans have on the individual is replaced by a stress on relationships. What you do is not as important as how we are related. When getting to know another person the questions aren't "where did you go to school?, where do you work?, what do you do?" But "How big is your family, what is your birth order? Who are your parents?" The prayer book here has a rubric that an adult is not to be baptized without the consent of the bishop. Baptism of children is the norm. I discovered that this reflects the cultural awareness of community and relationships. A village or family or clan would traditionally be of the same religion so children would be brought up in that religion. For an adult to become a Christian while the rest of the family wasn't at least sympathetic would be to erode the familial/relational framework that the society depends on. This seems to be part of the problem that the Anglican and other "mainline" churches are facing with the growth of the "sects". The community becomes divided as people adopt the western approach to faith and accept Jesus Christ as their personal Lord and Saviour rather than affirm their community's acceptance of Jesus Christ as Lord. This struggle between the individualistic approach and the community approach seems to epitomize the struggle that PNG is facing as it moves from stone age to space age. A clash of cultural emphases as "western" values supplant "traditional" ones. I have often reflected that on Ash Wednesday we are marked with a capital I which is then scratched out: a reminder that our Christian vocation is to be part of the body rather than just an individual. Here there is the reverse tension: to become an individual rather than just being a member of the community/tribe/clan. We are both individuals and a part of the larger community. There are demands pulling us in both directions. Too much individualism is not good. Losing personal identity may not be good either. Perhaps the "isness" of God is calling us into a fuller acceptance of both or particular identity and our community identity.

St Athanasius Day

3 May 05

Yesterday was St Athanasius Day. St. Athanasius is the patron saint of the college and so it was an important day for us. The students decided that we should get a pig for the bung kai. One of the students has several pigs in his village and so we bought one from him. The problem was getting it to the college. The staff didn't think that our college truck could safely go to Wasita and bring back the pig and the other food offerings which would accompany it. The Melanesian brotherhood said that they would go and get the pig for us if we supplied the diesel for their truck. The said they would come after mass on Sunday. By evening prayer time they still had not come and so their was considerable anxiety about what we could/should do. The pig would have had its legs tied to a pole for nearly a whole day and so there was concern for the pig as well as the food offerings and the whole celebration. One of the other students said that his elder brother might be able to help us, so several students went to inquire. He agreed to go up the next morning (St Athanasius day) about 5:30 to bring back the pig. After the morning mass I had to go to the diocesan office to check email (We've been having trouble with our local server and not able to receive email for a couple of weeks - finally it went through and I had nearly 500 messages, although about half of them were duplicate messages from the Diocese of New York that was having trouble with its listserve. The electricity went off in the middle of my download and my laptop battery ran out just as I still had 50 messages to download. I couldn't afford another hour on line to redownload the remaining email so I had to scrap the remaining 50 messages [If you sent me an email during the last couple of days, please resend it.]) Anyway, to get back to the pig; I discovered that the Melanesian Brothers' truck had broken down which was why they hadn't come the day before to get our pig. While I was in town I also got some cooking oil, onions, soy sauce and other things fo help with the cooking. When I got back to the college the pig had arrived. Some of the youths were butchering the pig. The mothers were peeling vegetables. Stones were being heated on a fire, the pit for the mu mu had been dug and everything was moving forward. The pig and vegetables were cooked in the mu mu (a pit filled with the food and hot stones all wrapped in banana leaves and then more banana leaves were placed over the top of it to keep the heat in. After several hours the pig and vegetables were all cooked. The bung kai was festive and almost everyone had a piece of pig. The student who came from the village where we had bought the pig could not eat it since it had been his. Pigs are important. The food offering from the village that accompanied the pig was something that they had to do since even though we paid for it, they were giving us a pig. Food here is something that is real. The pig was butchered right behind the social hall. Chickens are bought live and have to be killed and plucked before cooking. The work of peeling vegetables, scraping coconuts, and all mean that food preparation is not taken for granted. That, I think, is the lesson for me: that intentionality is an important part of preparation. The respect given to the animals that died for our meal; the awareness of the work that goes into food preparation; are important. Food is not just taken for granted; it is appreciated. The fast food and preprepared meals of the US may be physically nutritious but they do not satisfy the spiritual nurture that comes from an awareness of the things we eat.

Retreat for Missionaries

16 Apr 05

This past week I have been on a retreat with other missionaries from the Episcopal Church for a time of refreshment and renewal. We met in Istanbul, Turkey, which bridges europe and asia. We came from europe (Switzerland and France) the middle east (including Pakistan, India, Afghanistan, Israel/Palestine, Yemen) and the Pacific (Philippines, China, Taiwan, Burma, Japan and me from Papua New Guinea). We prayed and did Bible studies together and had a chance to talk about our experiences, difficulties, and joys with people who have similar experiences. We stayed at a hotel near Hagia Sophia (Church of Holy Wisdom) and we had time to visit there and some of the mosques and other tourist attractions. Wednesday evening we went to see whirling dirvishes. Friday we made a pilgrimage to Nicea and visited the Hagia Sophia there and had mass on the shore of Lake Isnek near where the first of the ecumenical councils was held. Some of the missionaries that attended I knew from the orientation that we had in January last year. Others I had heard about and others are newly discovered colleagues. The week has been a time of spiritual renewal and physical refreshment. A time of re-creation. It came at a time when I really needed a break. The first term as principal of the college has been quite a challenge. Many of the relationships that I had with the rest of the college community went through some stresses and adjustments. Two students were sent home (much to the relief of the rest of the community) and one staff member was dismissed (he was given the opportunity to resign) which initially upset many of the students, although now they are beginning to see that it was a much-needed move. This two week break (it took several days to get here and will take several days to get back home) gives a chance to regain perspective and a chance to have a new start. A retreat is not admitting defeat, but provides an opportunity to regroup. It is a strategic move and not a tactical defeat. That difference between strategy and tactics (military lingo for long-range and immediate plans) is important. Jesus' crucifixion seemed a tactical disaster but was a strategic necessity. Firing the bursar was an unpopular tactical occurrence but a needed strategic move. It is tempting to only pay attention to tactics and put bandaids on top of bandaids when strategic surgery will really offer relief.

Lady Day

4 Apr 05

Today is Lady Day. (The feast of the Annunciation when the angel Gabriel asked Mary to become the mother of God's son.) Usually this day is celebrated on 25 March (9 months before Christmas); but this year 25 March was Good Friday and so it had to be postponed for a week or so. But it would have been interesting to celebrate them together: to see the beginning and the apparent end at the same time. We don't often get to do that. When we respond to a call, we usually can not begin to comprehend how it will play out. When Mary said "yes" to her vocation to be the mother of God, she did not know that people would think her son was crazy and others would have him crucified. She did not think that she would have to hold the lifeless corpse of God's son. She did not anticipate that he would entrust her into the care of his best friend and him into her care. But she said "yes" and persevered in her vocation as it unfolded. In 1973 when I became a Franciscan brother I did not realize that saying "yes" to this vocation would mean that I would be teaching in Papua New Guinea 30 years later. When the students here responded to their call to become priests, they did not know what college life would be like and even now they can not comprehend what their life as village priests will entail. When couples recognize their vocation to marry, they do not know what the realities of married life will be. All we can do is respond to the invitation and persevere- trusting in the God who gave us the vocation. When I said "yes" to return to PNG to teach at the college as a missionary of the Episcopal Church I did not know everything that entailed. This coming week I will be going to Istanbul for a retreat that the Episcopal Church is providing for its missionaries in PNG, Japan, Korea, Philippines, India, Pakistan and Europe. The retreat is Monday to Friday next week but it will take me a couple of days to get there and back. So please pray for me during the retreat and for safe travel.

Holy Week 2005

29 March 05

Last week was Holy Week. We have three liturgy groups at the college and a different group took responsibility for planning each of the different services. Maundy Thursday was a simple said mass. When it came time for the foot washing twelve people came forward and sat in front of the chapel then two by two they washed each other's feet. Remember that after washing their feet, Jesus told the disciples to do for one another what he had done for them. This meant that sometimes a man had to wash a woman's feet. This was difficult for some of them since it jars with the culture that regards women as second-class. The humility of Jesus' act was made explicit. The whole thing was very moving in its simplicity. Then on Good Friday we had the passion followed by the seven last words as we processed with a life-sized cross around the college before planting it by the entrance. The cross is made out of quila posts. It is not beautiful or symmetrical. It is designed to remind us of the cross on which Jesus died which was not beautiful. Different college and community groups presented reflections on the words from the cross. The last one: "Father, in your hands I commend my spirit" reminded us that this is the same Spirit that comes to us through the Resurrected Lord at Pentecost: The Spirit that Jesus breathed on his disciples and quite possibly the same spirit that was breathed into Adam at the beginning of creation. The Easter Vigil started at 4:30 a.m. with a new fire that was lit by a flame coming down from the sky (or nearby tree) reminding us of the fire on Mount Carmel. I was privileged to sing the Exultet and then we had four lessons. Two of them were followed by dialogues or short dramas to show how these ideas translate into the local situation. The promise of return from exile in Isaiah doesn't carry the same meaning in a country where people's experience is invasion rather than exile; and yet the promise of God's presence in the midst of political changes remains constant. One of the blessings of being here is the opportunity that it provides to look at familiar things in a slightly different way: to discover a truth that can be hidden my familiarity or cultural blindness.

Abandonment

23 March 05

Lots of the students and staff at the college have young children. Even Father Russell and Mother Rose - both of whom are in their 60's - have a grandchild living with them. A few days ago while one young child was taking an afternoon nap, her mother went quickly to the garden to bring back vegetables for dinner. She was not gone very long; but while she was away the child awoke and saw that she was all alone. Her mother and father, her brothers and sisters were no where to be seen. The child did not know where they were and was scared and started to cry: not sobs of loneliness; but hysterical cries of terror. She felt that she had been abandoned and left all alone. Whatever had taken her family away might come back and take her away too. It was only after two or three minutes of this intense crying that her mother came running back from the garden and took her into her arms and soothed and comforted her. The crying subsided and soon the joyful confidence of knowing that she was loved and cared for wiped away the fleeting terrible experience of abandonment. I suspect that Jesus' cry :"My God, My God, why have you abandoned me?" was like this young child's experience of abandonment. In both cases the feeling is genuine. There is no evidence of the presence of the parent or God. The outward senses all say you have been abandoned. Jesus' sense of betrayal and abandonment reflect his total humanity: There is no other scripture that makes Jesus' humanity so patently obvious and real. And yet Jesus was not really abandoned; nor was the little girl. Just as the young girl was soon consoled in the loving arms of her mother, so too Jesus will soon know that he is still in his Father's favour. The resurrection is the sign; the Ascension is the reaffirmation; that they both welcome the repentant thief into paradise is the fruit. Jesus and the Father are One. Those who see the Son have seen the Father. Jesus is in the Father and the Father is in him. We are also God's beloved children. This is a wonderful, undefinable, mysterious truth. Sometimes cares and worries can obscure this reality, but it never stops being real. Jesus felt abandonment - the feeling was real and genuine - but our feelings are not always the same as the reality. We can feel we are ugly ducklings when the reality is that we are beautiful swans. Like Jesus we may feel hopeless, God-forsaken, and utterly broken. But in reality we are still enfolded in God's loving arms; its just that for the moment, we lose sight of it.

Mini Retreat

6 March 05

I have not been sleeping well. Almost every night I stay up late trying to get some work done on the computer before the generator shuts off and then get up early in the morning to shower and eat breakfast before morning prayer at 6:30. Sometimes then I get awakened by somebody needing or wanting something. This past week the sleep deprivation was really getting to me and so I decided to spend Friday night away from the college so that I could get a good nights sleep and have 24 hours of time to myself. I called it a mini-retreat and it is something that I plan to do again fairly regularly - only next time for 48 hours instead of 24.. Next month I will be going on a week-long retreat. Each year the Episcopal Church sponsors a number of retreats for the missionaries that it has around the world. I am going to the one they have for missionaries in europe, the middle east and asia. I am looking forward to it. Retreats are something that are usually a routine part of a friar's life. I had one just before coming here (at Mount Calvary in Santa Barabara - I went with the brothers from San Damiano Friary in San Francisco); but I haven't had one since I've been here. When the college had its annual retreat I stayed behind to "keep the home fires burning." When I was on this mini-retreat I had the chance to watch television and saw Good Morning, Vietnam, the Robin Williams movie of several years ago. It was a surprise to be reminded of Viet Nam. Some of the scenes reminded me of my time in Saigon (as a soldier 72-73) and some reminded me of PNG. It was interesting to see how the various threads of my life are interwoven that way. The 12 steps always remind me that I need to live in the present and so I do. But I also need to reflect on my past from time to time and to be aware of the future. It is my reflections on the past that help me to understand who I am and what I am doing in the present. It is an awareness that there is a future (even not knowing what it will bring) that helps me keep the present in perspective. All time is in God's hands. I know that and I know that there is a timelessness with God. But there is still a past, a present, and a future and that knowledge gives a richness and depth to living. So after my retreat next month I will plan for monthly mini-retreats, not only to be a respite, but also to be a chance to reflect, anticipate, regain perspective, and re-create.

My soul praise the Lord

28 Feb 05

Yesterday was a busy Sunday. After Mass I spent a couple of hours mowing grass before preparing supper. (The food store had cream cheese - the first time I've seen it in PNG - and so I made a cheesecake for Sunday dinner). Then after dinner I had an open forum with the students. We do this every other week. Then I had some computer work to do before the generator shut off at 10:30. At 11:30 I was awakened by one of the students who needed to take his daughter to the emergency room. At 3:30 he came back to tell me that she had died and he needed to take the family down to the hospital to prepare the body and bring it back to the college. By 4:30 or 5:00 the whole college was awake and the wailing began. All activities at the college were abandoned for the day. None of the children went to school. We went to a nearby village to have a coffin made and brought it to the college. One mother made a dress for the girl to wear. Another made a pall to cover the coffin. The coffin was about 3 inches too short so it was taken to the shop and the foot of the coffin was taken off and an extension added. (The coffin is plywood.) One team was working on the box and another on the lid. The result was that the lid was too long and so it had to be shortened. All this hammering and sawing was going on while the family was waiting (and wailing) in the house. Finally the coffin was ready and we could begin the requiem. The Sunday school children led the procession from the house to the church. They were followed by the family carrying the coffin and then the Mothers Union and students and others. About halfway to the church the clergy joined them and the candles, incense, and cross led the procession into the church with the clergy at the rear. The mass was festive - complete with Alleluia's and the singing of the Gloria (both of which are not normally used during Lent). Just before the dismissal we sang the Magnificat with its antiphon ("My soul praise the Lord!") which was the favourite of the deceased. This renewed the wailing which continued while all the children present placed flowers on top of the coffin. Following the service the family and most of the college community boarded three trucks to go to the village for the actual burial. What impressed me the most about this death and funeral was that everybody was involved. Even the youngest children had bouquets to honour their friend (who was only about 3 years old). Food offerings were made for the family to take with them to the village. The coffin and dress and pall were all special made. Even members of the college community who didn't always get along well with the family of the deceased participated. It felt like all the differences and disagreements were set aside as common humanity took over. My grandfather was the caretaker of a cemetery and some of my fond childhood memories are playing in the graveyard and watching funerals (and picking the flowers afterwards). But I don't think I have ever before had such an overwhelming experience of "In the midst of life we are in death." That life and death are interwoven. Death is a part of life, not its denial. So thank you, Juliet, for helping me to really understand your favourite hymn "My soul praise the Lord." May your soul and the souls of all the departed through the mercy of God rest in peace. Amen. (Please also pray for her parents Lindsay and Maude and the rest of her family in their grief.)

Cross stitch and literacy

20 Feb 05

I am teaching the students' wives to cross stitch. I have been doing cross stitching on and off for several years. When I came to PNG for my sabbatical in 2002-2003, I brought cross- stitching to do but then broke my arm and wasn't able to do it. Then I brought it back this time but did not have time last year to do much. (I didn't have time to work on my genealogy either.) But some of the women saw a stole that I had cross-stitched and when they found out that I had done it wanted me to teach them. I brought a fair amount of floss with me of various colours and had some scraps of 14 count aida cloth and a small bolt of suitable material (20 count). I also had a couple of packets of betweens (the needle used for cross- stitching). I have a computer program that with my scanner can generate patterns from any picture. What I didn't bring was a supply of embroidery hoops. I have one hoop and a frame but that is all. The first class, the mothers were all given piece of the aida cloth to use as a sampler and with a little instruction started cross-stitching their first project. Some were fast learners and some had trouble but they helped each other. Then this week they started in on a major project using the 20 count material (without the benefit of a hoop). They will be making appliques that they can sew onto the stoles that they will be making later this year for their husbands to use after they are ordained. Now that they know what they are doing I will be cross-stitching with them for a couple of hours each week. I can work on a project of my own while being there to answer questions, show them how to fix mistakes, etc. This couple of hours with the wives is a treat. They are a great group. Wednesday evening marked the beginning of the mothers' union program year. As their chaplain I admitted one new member and installed their officers during the evening Mass. Some of the mothers did a simple liturgical dance during the Sanctus and the Lord's Prayer. Others served as acolytes, read the lessons and led the intercessions. Most of the liturgy was in English but one of the mothers read the intercession that she had written in Tok Pisin. I later learned that this was the first time that she had done anything like this because when she came to the college she was illiterate. To be able to write and read Tok Pisin (in front of a congregation) was a major accomplishment - one that the other mothers also took delight in. The mothers look after each other, help each other, take care of each other's children and generally support each other. The role of women here is to be subservient to men but in this cross-stitching class, I feel as though we are more or less on the same level-that gender differences don't matter.. The deference/respect shown me is because of my being Principal and their teacher, not just because I am a man. We can talk about cooking and other things that we have in common because I do not have a wife to cook/clean for me. I also respect them as I would respect any other person. I wonder if the Incarnation works this way. For a time Jesus laid aside his divine/regal prerogatives and was one of us. The suspension of divine prerogative for a time. Suspension of prerogative may be like the suspension of disbelief that is required to enjoy a play or movie. Whatever it is, I enjoy my cross stitching with the wives on Fridays. It is a good way to end my week.

Interruptions

13 Feb 05

Last night the Kiae family came to dinner. Each week I am inviting one of the students and his family to come to the house for dinner. I did this last year and have just started doing it again this year. It allows me to get to know the students and their families better and it also gives them a chance to relate to me on a more personal basis. Last year I did it so that I could begin to learn who was who. This year I know who is married to whom and most of the children, so the dynamic is a bit different. I am also in a larger house with a larger table. Last night we could have all sat around the table but instead I opted to sit on mats on the floor. Some of the families are too large to sit around the table and most of the children are not used to it so it seems better to all sit on mats. So Henry Newton (named after the founder of Newton College), his wife Gratel (the new president of the Mothers' Union) and their daughter Cinderella came to dinner. I fixed an aibica and mince (ground beef) dish and boiled rice. They brought pumpkin, cooked bananas, corn and pumpkin greens with tinned fish. Several times dinner was interrupted. One student wanted to use the computer lab (downstairs, under my house), another needed the fuel shed key (so he could put diesel into the generator), another needed to take his child to the hospital. Even as I write this I am being interrupted. The mechanic is here working on our generator. One student came to get kerosene so he can clean some of the parts. Another is telling me about a leaking faucet. Another complains that some students are using the coconuts from the trees that dot the college for their own use rather than leaving them for the college use. A member of the Mothers' Union wants to talk to me about Wednesday's service of commissioning the new Office Bearers. Sometimes interruptions can be annoying and frustrating. But usually I am able to hear the voice of God in most of them. "As you gave a drink of water to someone in my name, you gave it to me" doesn't mean just the times when you were wanting to do so, but the times when you wanted to do something else. The widow who gave the prophet a small loaf of bread when she was wanting to use the oil and flour to make a last meal for herself and her son responded to the call of God when it was importune. Responding to importunity is as important as responding to opportunity. The old movie "The Nun's Story" (or maybe it was "In This House of Breed") every time someone knocked on her door the mother superior responded "Thanks be to God." This is the grace I seek. To see the grace of God in interruptions and importunity.

Stars, Bells, Lent 5 Feb 05

Fridays I usually walk to the Friary for evening prayer and supper. Most Fridays the brothers give me a ride back to the college after this visit, but this past Friday the vehicle was taking some of the friars to attend the haus krai (house cry or mourning) for the natural brother of one of the Franciscan brothers who had recently died. So two of the postulants escorted me back to the college. Escorts are very common. Anytime the vehicle goes out at night there are always at least two escorts (one for the truck and one for the driver). In an area where telephones are scarce and there is always the danger of a flat tire or snake bite or other problem, it isn’t wise for people to travel on their own if they can avoid it. So two escorts allowed them to escort each other back to the friary. (I walk to the friary during day light and all of the people who live between the college and the friary know me, so I don’t need an escort going, but after dark (there are no street lights and most people do not have electricity) it is a different matter. As we were walking down the road, I was stunned by the magnificence of the stars. A cloudless night is a rare phenomenon. Probably because there are few man-made lights about the stars seemed so numerous and intense. I have often heard of light pollution, but Friday night I enjoyed its absence. I found myself thinking of a poem from Junior High School days: “The bells” by, I think, Noyes. The line “How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle in the icy air of night, while the stars that over sprinkle all the heavens seem to twinkle with a crystaline delight, keeping time, time, time in a sort of runic rhyme to the tintinabulation that so musically swells from the bells...” (How’s that for memory?) The poet’s connection between the sound of bells ringing and the sight of stars twinkling seems peculiar because there doesn’t seem to be any natural connection. But sight and sound are related. Indeed all the senses are related. Sometimes something smells so bad we can taste it. There is a unity – a totality – that encompasses what, on the surface, seems unrelated. Ash Wednesday is this week when we get marked with a cross (a capital I scratched out). Lent is a time when we remember our commonality. We don’t forget our uniqueness but we set it aside to focus on our unity with other people, our solidarity with penitents and those preparing for baptism, our incorporation into the mystical Body of Christ.

AIDS 27 Jan 05

AIDS is becoming a huge problem in PNG. Most of the transmission is heterosexual sex with a lesser amount through breast feeding. Saturday we had a priest from Zimbabwe with us to tell us the experience that he and the church had in that African country with HIV/AIDS. There are many cultural similarities between Zimbabwe and PNG: the cultural taboo to talk about sex, the subserviance of women to men (and their inability to decline to have sex with their husbands). There was a three hour presentation in the morning then a break and another two hours in the afternoon. It was hard to hear the talk of AIDS being God's punishment for sin (this not from the African priest, but from my students) even though it was being said of people who were unfaithful in marriage rather than about gays. I do not know why it is that we seek to cast blame rather than to aid the afflicted. Maybe a demand for justice -- or revenge -- is part of our makeup. I know that mercy is: I have seen that time and time again as children demonstrate mercy and forgiveness. But maybe retribution is part of our make up as well. Adam blamed Eve who blamed the serpent (and God was blamed by both). Blame not responsibility. Maybe that is part of what we mean by "original sin". Not just pride but a refusal to take responsibility while being quick to cast blame.

School Fees 19 Jan 05

School fees are a major concern here in PNG. Parents have to pay for their children’s education. Fees range from K80 for preschool to about K1600 for a residential high school. Continuing to go to school depends on passing national exams at the end of grades 8, 10 and 12 as well as the ability to pay the fees. Students get a fortnightly stipend of K65 so school fees are a major concern especially if a student has several children in school. The church in Australia helps to meet the costs of school fees but the payment has not yet come and fees are due before students can go to school (classes start on Monday). The anxiety level is high and people get easily frustrated. Yesterday I contacted the national church office in Lae and was able to arrange for an advance to cover school fees. Later today I should receive a list of the fees to be paid and the account numbers to which they should be paid (you go to the bank with your check and deposit it into the school’s account and then use the receipt to show that the fees have been paid). Tomorrow I will need to go to the bank to pay the fees. This will probably mean about a 5 hour wait! There is only one bank in town and even without school fees it usually takes a couple of hours to do even a simple transaction. In the US some banks pride themselves on fast service but not so here. The other day I went to get my PNG driver’s license (my international license expires tomorrow) and that entailed standing in several lines at three different locations (blocks apart). Standing in line and waiting is normal. Any time someone needs to see a doctor they have to go to the hospital emergency room and wait. There aren’t any private physicians. I used to dread standing in line. I still find it tiring, but I also find it good prayer time. It is relatively easy to intercede for the other people in line, but it is also a time to reflect and mull over (meditate on/contemplate) various concerns and decisions. I am hoping to pray my lesson plans for the Sacraments course into completion just as I prayed the syllabus for my Bible course into being while waiting for students at the hospital last week when I was the duty driver. My dad used to mow lawn (and he did a lot of them) as a way of praying. I used to use subway riding as prayer time and now I find waiting in line a time to pray. It just goes to show that we can indeed pray without ceasing.

The Bishop’s Resignation 12 Jan 05

This past week the bishop resigned. I first met him two years ago when I was staying at the friary near here during my sabbatical. He had been the principal of the college when he went on his long leave and was elected diocesan during his absence. He was the one who asked me to teach two courses at the college while I was at the friary and I attended his episcopal ordination – the only one that I have ever witnessed. And now, two years later, he is resigning and returning to England for medical reasons. Last spring he had to go to Australia for heart bypass surgery, which was successful. But the tropical climate has hindered the healing of the grafts and his doctors worry that the medical facilities in the bush are not adequate for someone with his health condition. The students from his diocese are naturally anxious about how this will affect their ordinations. The diocese is faced with another search for a bishop and the costs entailed. And I find that I am confronted with my own mortality. Bishop Roger is about 10 years younger than I am and while I don’t have a heart condition, I am aware that the local hospital often does not have access to medications and patients who undergo surgery there have a great risk of developing infections (as shown by one of our students last year). When I was in Port Moresby to meet my Mom I went to a pharmacy and stocked up on basic medications (amoxicillin, erythromycin, immodium, etc) to have on hand. Indeed, they came in handy when I had the bee sting. But I find that I am thinking about the reality of my mortality. (Perhaps having three members of the college community in the hospital with pneumonia/malaria is also a contributor to this awareness.) But on the other side I am enjoying what I am doing; I feel that I am here in response to God’s call; I seem to be making a positive difference and the students are responsive and supportive. Long ago I realized that I can either live until I die (and enjoy the fullness of the abundant life) or never really live out of fear of death. And I have chosen to live until I die. When death does come (and it comes to all of us at some time) I hope that it finds me being happy, productive and faithful. The words of the Easter troparian come to mind. (Christ is risen from the dead; trampling down Death by death; and on those in the tomb bestowing life.) Death is dead and Life lives (and so do I).

Mom and Joeharry 4 Jan 05

I’ve just taken Mom to the airport for her return flight to the US. She spent about two weeks with me. Most of the time we were in Popondetta, although we had spent the first long weekend in Port Moresby. IT was a good visit. We visited two villages (including taking a PMV (think back of a duce and a half truck) and went on a picnic. Two student wives welcomed her to the college and there were traditional welcomes in both villages. Several of the students came to the house to meet her and they seemed really glad to have her at the college. One of the students had trouble believing she was almost 82! She wasn’t bothered by the insects, not always having water, or the other inconveniences which go hand in hand with living in PNG. The combination of her visit and the normal disruptions that come with holidays meant that I did not keep up with my weekly reflections. It was good to have her with me. I think she now understands why I am so glad to be here and how my job as principal of the college seems to be something I have been preparing my whole life for. We had times to chat and times when we worked together (washing dishes, sorting keys, putting booklets together or doing crossword puzzles) and times when we were apart. One of the best things about her visit, though, was what I learned about myself. I know that I am happy here and that I am loved and respected by the college community, but she was able to spot signs that I have overlooked or taken for granted. It is the old joe-harry window at work. I learned things about myself that I needed to have mirrored to me. [The joe-harry window is the dynamic that says there are things we know about ourselves that others also know; things we know about ourselves that others don’t know; things that others know about us that we don’t know; and things about ourselves that are unknown to both ourselves and others.] One of the wonderful things about living in a different culture is the things that we learn about ourselves. This is something that my weekly reflections help me to discover. One of the wonderful things about living with a family or community is that we can learn about ourselves from other people. This is something that is a bit harder to do here and one of the unexpected benefits of Mom’s visit. So just as Jesus learned about himself from his disciples and others (Who do people say that I am... who do you say that I am?) As well as telling his disciples and others about himself, so in my (our) humanity we learn about ourselves from others and share ourselves with others. Once again the humanity of Jesus is revealed and affirmed.

Shopping in POM ; 19 Dec 04

I am in Port Moresby for a few days. Mom arrived on Friday to spend Christmas and New Year;s with me (we go back to Popondetta tomorrow) and I came a couple of days early to do some shopping for the college. There are some things we need that either we can;t get in Popondetta or else they are much cheaper in POM (Port Moresby). My long list took me to a sporting goods store (dart feathers and volley ball), a stationary shop (assorted office supplies), a hardware store (24 volt battery charger, silicon caulking, and fuses), a liquor store (sacramental wine). It is surprising to me that I am quite happy in Popondetta and limiting my shopping to the things that I can get there ; rejoicing when something like raisons or real cheese makes a fleeting appearance in a store; and learning to make-do without things that aren;t available. But then when I come to the capital city I get overwhelmed by all the superabundance of things. Christmas trees (plastic) and decorations are everywhere. Toys (lots of barbie dolls and guns but no black baby dolls), Christmas seems to be a European import (all the Christmas music seems to talk of snow and Santa Claus seems to be everywhere). After Church this morning Mom and I went to a grocery to get a few things. She was surprised at what was available and what was not and we realized that even in the US the foods that are sold in stores reflect the tastes of the people who shop there (oxtail soup is sold most everywhere in Brooklyn but not so in San Francisco, collard greens are a staple in North Carolina but not in central Pennsylvania). I am struck how the particular and the universal interact with each other. Some things (like foods) reflect local tastes and culture and some things (like Christmas music and decorations) are imported directly without enculturation. This gets me to pondering about the Incarnation ; when the Word became flesh. How much of Jesus; humanity is universal and how much is culturally specific? The early church had trouble working this out (do you have to be circumcised to be a Christian?) And now we are still trying to figure out how much Christianity is culturally based and what part of our beliefs and practices can be enculturated.

[Just in case you were wondering, I did not write a reflection last week. Things were just too chaotic to be able to; now I realize that is not an excuse, but actually a reason why I should have taken the time to reflect; to counteract the chaos with the discipline of quiet meditation and reflection and prayer.]

Not a Problem 5 Dec 04

Thursday I drove to Wasita. This is the first time I have done any real driving in PNG. Oh, I;ve done the school runs and driven to Oro Bay and a few other places but it has all been on the main road. The main road in Popondetta is bitumen (sealed) and while there are a lot of potholes (especially in town) and some one-lane bridges it is basically like a back country road in the US. When you leave the town the pavement ends and the road becomes stony. Wasita is beyond Martyrs School. The road is paved about half way to Martyrs (it is as far as the queen went when she visited here years ago). The dirt road is corrugated where the rains have washed gullies. This main road continues on to Kokoda. But then we turned off this main road onto a secondary road which is pretty much the same condition but narrower. The main road can theoretically handle two-way traffic but there isn;t a lot and vehicles going in both directions tend to go on whichever side (or middle) that has the fewest potholes. The secondary road is definitely one-way. Soon, though, we left this secondary road for the road to the village we were going to. This road is little more than a double foot-path. The truck had to knock down the nearly waist-high grass that was growing between the two tire tracks. People walking on this road had to step off into the bush for us to pass. Then we got to the village and one of the students got out of the truck and lifted up the power lines so that we could drive in. (The village has a generator and so has its own power system.) There were pigs all over the place. I dropped off some of the students and some student wives and then just before dusk drove back to the college. (One of the college alumni is being ordained there today and so the students and wives had gone to help prepare for the ordination.) There were three students still in the back of the pickup (Anytime the vehicle goes any distance there are always extra passengers.) Then the rain started. It was quite an experience driving over the main road during a heavy rain storm in the dark. I felt sorry for the guys (I still can;t bring myself to call them boys, which is the term they always use for themselves and each other) getting wet in the back of the truck, but they didn;t seem to mind. I have ridden on the back of a pickup in the rain and while I got wet, it wasn;t wildly uncomfortable since it was still warm enough not to feel chilled. The rain stopped about the time we got to the sealed road and they wind got them pretty well dried off by the time we got back to the college. Yesterday one of the students took another load of students there and had a break down on the way back. One of the shock absorbers finally gave out and he had to use a rubber (piece of an old inner tube) to tie it together. I am glad that I wasn;t driving when that happened. But if it had, the students who were with me would have jury-rigged it for me. People here are good at that. People make do with what they have. If something breaks, you fix it the best you can with what you have at hand. While we were driving up there the student in the cab with me was telling me that there is a river that goes through the middle of the Wasita parish (the parish has three worship sites: the church and two chapels). So when the priest walks to the other sites he has to cross the river on a tube. (Remember using tractor tubes when swimming as a kid). Everybody who lives near the river has a tube so it is easy for them to cross. This friendliness with the rain and rivers is so refreshing. I am used to trying to shield myself from the rain and try to avoid going through puddles and pools of water rather than just recognizing that they are there and accepting them in stride. It is this harmony with that intrigues me. Don;t get me wrong, if someone has an umbrella or rain coat they use it or if they can use a bridge rather than fording a stream they do, but if not then "not a problem" is the response. It seems as though almost everything is "not a problem". I can picture Jesus saying that. "What, we have 5000 hungry people here, not a problem." "Your daughter is sick and dying, not a problem." "Thomas, you have trouble believing, not a problem, but your fingers here."

Celebrations 30 Nov 04

The term is over. This past week was revision and examination. We now begin the summer break until classes resume the end of January. This morning Dick, the Deputy Principal, handed over the keys and admin responsibilities to me so that December is a transition to my becoming Principal on 1 January. The handing over of the keys and all was done as a "handover/takeover" ceremony in the chapel. This kind of public "Changing of the guards" is something that happens every time there are new office bearers. It has also been a season of closing bung kais. The Mothers Union had one to mark the end of their year. The Sunday School and youth had one after mass on the last Sunday of their term. The preschool had one this past week and on Sunday my liturgy group had theirs which included their families. The college students are divided into three liturgy groups. Each group takes a two-week turn of responsibility for sacristy/altar guild work. The groups meet weekly with a staff member to address pastoral concerns. The 40 or so of us (my group of 7 has most of the students with large families) gathered in my new house for the feast. (I moved all the furniture into the bedrooms so that we could all sit on the floor.) We had all contributed to the costs of the food and had a barbecue as well as the vegetables from student gardens. The two single students did the barbecuing. That morning had been the confirmations at the cathedral. Over 200 were confirmed in Resurrection Parish (the college is located in this parish). Six of the confirmands were from college families and five of that six were at my liturgy group bung kai. So we celebrated the end of term as well as the confirmations. This week was also Thanksgiving ; a day which was marked for me by receiving both my absentee ballot and a Times magazine article summarizing the election results. (Airmail takes 2-6 weeks to get here so to receive 2 pieces of mail with postmarks a month apart is not too unusual.) I tried calling home on Friday morning (Thanksgiving evening in Virginia where my mother and brother and his family were spending the holiday) but it did not work out. The end-of-year bung kais here served as my Thanksgiving dinner(s). Celebrations are important whether they are the handing over/taking over variety, noting a milestone, marking the end of term or the start of a new one, or annual family events. There is a natural ebb and flow to life with ups and downs, peaks and valleys, starts and finishes. Celebrations are part of this tapestry and help prevent one day from following another with a uniform blandness. The colourless monotony of routine needs to be broken from time to time and celebrations and feasts help to do that. A feast is important and gains significance as layers and layers of recollection are added to it. A family Thanksgiving meal brings back memories of earlier ones and can also anticipate future ones when the family will be back together. It was not by accident that Jesus; last supper took place at (or near) a recurring celebration that added meaning and significance to it. And it (the break from the ordinary) is also one of the reasons that even people in prison or hospital try to mark the special days in whatever way they can.

The Unexpected and 12 Steps 22 Nov 04

Saturday night the generator suddenly stopped and the college was unexpectedly plunged into darkness a little after 9 pm ; almost an hour and a half early. (Usually the bell is rung 15 minutes before the generator is shut down to give people a chance to get ready.) Then on Sunday we went off to find a mechanic. The man who maintains the generator for the oil palm plant agreed to come and see what went wrong. There was some sort of short in the college;s wiring and so we had to go and get the electrician to come and check the wiring. All the buildings on our side of the campus had their power breakers turned off (the other side of the campus was able to be disconnected) and then turned on one at a time until we could isolate the problem. Finally it was determined that the problem was on the other side of the college but by then it was starting to get dark and so that side would not have electricity for the night. Today the electrician will come and continue to locate and repair the short.

What strikes me in this is that the mechanic and electrician didn;t hesitate to come on a Sunday to help us out. Remember that neither one has a phone and so the only way to see if they could/would help was to drive out to their place (in both cases about 15 kilometres) to ask. There is a general willingness for people to help each other. If people can help, they do and the usual response is “not a problem”. And if the person can;t help (say someone got to the electrician with another problem before we did) there tends to be an acceptance of the situation. When the students found out that there would be no electricity that night their only concern was that they be given candles since it is only a couple of days before stipends and their finances were tight. When the truck broke down which meant that we had to arrange with a neighbour who runs a PMV to transport the children to/from school, noone got upset when they had to have the children ready a half hour earlier to be picked up. PNG calls itself “the land of the unexpected” and so when the unexpected happens, people take it in stride.

I have been in 12-step recovery for nearly two decades and I find it refreshing to be in a place where there is so much acceptance of things that cannot be changed going hand-in-hand with a genuine willingness to work at changing the things that can be changed. There aren;t any 12 step meetings here (there is one AA meeting in Port Moresby) but I find that the way life is lived here is helping me to stay sober. In fact I feel as though I am living the kind of life that I entered recovery to try to find.

Preaching Class 15 Nov 04

This term I have been teaching preaching to both the first year and the third year students. This means that I have been listening to two student sermons four days a week. I am impressed with their work. Sometimes they come up with ideas that give a whole new understanding to a familiar passage.

One preached about Peter;s three fold denial on Maundy Thursday evening. He spoke about the rooster fulfilling his vocation by crowing. The rooster did not know what he was doing out of the ordinary, but God knew and spoke to Peter through the crowing. This sparked a conversation about roosters and their crowing. A rooster will let you know when someone is coming. He will hear the approaching visitor before you do and his crowing will give you time to prepare. So if you don;t want your arrival to be detected (say you are a thief) you need to kill the rooster before he sees you. But if you are with someone in the bush you want a rooster to warn you of her approaching parents. So God works through the rooster;s crowing. God works through the ordinary and mundane.

Another preached on “the measure you give will be the measure you get.” (Matt 7:2). He talked about our need to give to God so that we can receive from God. We give God our lives, God gives us his Life. We give God our sins and failures, and he gives us back forgiveness and peace. We give God our bodies and he gives us the Holy Spirit. You have to give to be able to receive. A farmer has to give seeds to the ground in order to be able to receive a harvest.

This gives a whole new interpretation to the Prayer attributed to St. Francis: For it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is dying that we are born to eternal life. In all three the giving precedes the ability to receive.

My mother needs someone to look after her ; 7 Nov 04

“My mother needs someone to help look after her, and so I am thinking about getting married.” This was the beginning of a conversation with one of the youths from a nearby village who looks to me as a father figure since his own father died several years ago. He has uncles in the villages who are also father figures but if they tell him to do something he has to do it. If he wants to talk things through and come to his own decision, he sometimes comes to see me. It is times like this that I realize the different cultures that we come from. I cannot imagine anyone in the US stating that as the reason for getting married and yet here it makes some cultural sense. Marriage is different here. Some of the students have wives from arranged marriages. Some have mothers or mothers-in-law living with them to help take care of the children and cook while the mother and father are in class. Morality tends to be based on “what is best for the family or clan or village or society?” rather than “what is best for me?” So getting married so the wife can look after your mother is not altogether a strange reasoning. In the conversation he told me that while he has three children from three other women (one of them was adopted by his elder brother. I am not sure what happened with the others), she is also pregnant with his child. He says that he likes her enough to be happy living with her and that he feels that he can be faithful to her. She is living with his mother in the village now (her own village is in another province) and she is already looking after her. (This is all part of the betrothal process as he and his family prepare to pay the bride price.) They are planning a traditional wedding. He is in the process of building a house for her (this is also part of the process) to demonstrate that he is able to provide for her. So within his culture and its understanding of marriage, it seems like the marriage is appropriate and so I tell him to talk with his uncles and to get their consent. Another cultural difference has to do with my moving into the principal;s house which has been vacant for three years. It needs a major cleaning job before I can move into it. Friday I bought some cleaning supplies to see what would work and today I tried some of them out. Some of the students stopped by to see what I was doing and told me that this coming week they and their wives would clean it for me. I was also told that the wives would come in about once a month to help keep it clean. I have been cleaning my house for the past year and so I am quite capable of doing house work, but it is important to them to do this and so I need to let them minister to me. Accepting their offering of labour is my gift to them. It adds an interesting touch to the prayer attributed to St Francis: “It is in giving that we receive.”

My new appointment ; 31 Oct 04

This afternoon the archbishop came to see me and we chatted for all of about 15 minutes. But now I can say that I have accepted his offer to be the principal of Newton College effective 1 January. The official announcement will be made in a couple of weeks when the House of Bishops has its big meeting; but word is now starting to get out. Fr Russell, who has been the acting principal for the last two years is relieved and is looking forward to staying on as a teacher. Dick who has been the deputy principal for the same time had asked the archbishop to be relieved of admin responsibilities at the end of this term and is delighted to be able to start to hand stuff over to me when the term ends. Fr James, the other teacher, is also pleased with the appointment. Tomorrow morning we will tell the students.

What becoming principal means is that I become the administrator. I will continue lecturing as before but will become responsible for the running of the college. My stipend remains the same (K241.04 or about $75 a fortnight) but I will be moving into the principal;s house. The house is bigger than the one I am now in. There are 3 bedrooms upstairs and a large sitting/dining room about the size of the whole house that I am in now. The downstairs has another couple of bedrooms but at least one of them will be converted into a computer lab.

The house has been vacant for the past two years or so and it will need some cleaning and maybe some paint before I move in. I will check out the cost of paint to see if I can afford a couple of gallons. Maybe I can paint some now and from time to time do another wall or panel. We will have to see.

As I told the archbishop, I am not an academic but I do have experience with formation and administration so the gifts (and liabilities) that I bring to the position are different from those of my predecessors. But that is always the way things are. No one ever replaces another person. People are not interchangeable parts. One person leaves a job and another one takes it over and in the process the job changes to take advantage of the strengths of the new person and (hopefully) to compensate for his weaknesses. I used to have a pastor who was fond of saying that there is only one difference between a rut and a grave ; one is deeper. I hope that my tenure will instill new life and vitality ; leading to resurrection ; as new routines and visions counteract the rut the college has fallen into. Please pray for me and for the college during this two months of transition.

Body Parts ; 24 Oct 04

 It;s been a long time since I;ve thought about body parts but yesterday I thought about them a lot. One of the students went to the hospital on Wednesday for a hernia operation on Thursday. I anointed him for healing before he went. Friday I went to take him communion and learned that they had removed one of his testicles and that it was likely they would have to remove the other as well. I prayed with him and his wife and anointed him again. This morning I went in again and he had just come out from this surgery. So I again anointed him, prayed with his wife and gave her communion. Tomorrow I will go back to give him communion. Before he went to the hospital I shared with him that I knew what it was like to have surgery on one;s “private parts” and the embarassment that goes with it since I had had several operations about 10 years ago. Frank;s surgery not only reminded me of my own hospitalization but the visits to the surgical ward of Popondetta General Hospital also reminded me of the time I spent as a chaplain at Goldwater Hospital in New York City. Goldwater was a place where the city “wearhoused” paralytics and amputees under the guise of rehabilitation. Missing and bandaged limbs draw attention. A person is more than the assemblage of body parts and the removal or deformation of one of them doesn;t diminish that person;s personhood; but it is impossible to overlook the mangled or missing and pretend that nothing is different. That doesn;t mean to dwell on it, but to acknowledge it. Then when I got back to the college another student told me how he had to go and tell his auntie that her son had been attacked and eaten by a crocodile and that all that was left was part of his left leg which was now in the morgue. They were going to make a small box for his leg and on Saturday take it to his village for burial. This conversation reminded me of working as a chaplain in the morgue at what had been the World Trade Center during the aftermath of 11 Sept 01. Then finding a limb (or other body part ; sometimes even just a finger) meant that the family had something to bury and every body part was prayed over and treated with the utmost respect. Here the body part represented the totality of the person. So in one situation a body part signifies the person;s totality while in another the absence of a body part doesn;t diminish the person;s personhood. New York City and Popondetta are on opposite sides of the world (almost literally) and yet the lessons learned in one place are relevant in the other. It really is a small world.

Baking Bread and the Rag Tag Army ;17 Oct 04

One of the things I am getting known for here is baking bread. Every time we have a bung kai or tea after Sunday mass I bake a loaf of bread as our contribution. And on Fridays I bake a loaf to take to the friary when Selwyn and I go over for Evening Prayer and supper. I was never much of a bread baker. Sometimes when I was stationed at Little Portion I helped with the bread baking there (90-120 loaves each Friday) but that is different from making two loaves at a time (one large one to take and a smaller one for us). The bread never turns out the same twice because I don;t follow a recipe. About 2 kilos of flour, some powdered milk, sugar, yeast, oil and water. Sometimes I add grated coconut; today it was passion fruit and bananas. Last week it was pumpkin. Once it was abica (greens) and cheese. But now people look forward to the bread. When I was first learning to cook as a brother, the saying was that if you can read, you can cook. I slavishly followed the recipes. Now I hardly ever follow one. I look at them for ideas and rough amounts but then alter them to fit the ingredients at hand. I have learned that if you use good ingredients that it is hard to make a dish that doesn;t taste ok. It may not look like you intended it to look, but if a lasagna is a bit soupy it can still be served and next time I;ll know to do something differently. Teaching is like that too. I wasn;t trained to be a teacher but I am learning. I know that the information that I am imparting is good and the students respond to my enthusiasm and interest in them. But I doubtless make pedagogical mistakes but I learn from them and the students still benefit from the teaching. Isn;t it wonderful that perfection isn;t always required. We do what we can and leave the rest in God;s hands. I find myself thinking about Martin Bell;s The Way of the Wolf and the story of God;s “Rag Tag Army.” We are all going at a different pace in basically the same direction ; but with lots of to-ing and fro-ing and stopping to smell the roses. And we will all get to the destination. We may not be uniformed and marching in step, but God doesn;t seem to care as long as we follow as best we can and if we go astray he;ll wait for us or go and bring us back and eventually we will all get there.

Various Events ; 10 Oct 04

This past week was marked with three different events. Monday was St. Francis Day. The brothers at the friary observed in on Sunday but I was scheduled to preach at the college on Sunday so wasn;t able to join them. But when Father James realized that Monday was St Francis Day, he invited me to deacon that day and to “say a few words”. So St Francis Day was observed at the college on its rightful day. Then Wednesday was my birthday. People in PNG don;t celebrate birthdays. In fact, many people don;t know when they were born. When they apply for passports, some brothers give the date they were made a novice as their birthday since one day is as good as another. Sometimes the year itself isn;t certain. Now the country is beginning to register births and sometimes there is an appeal in one of the papers for families to go to a specified recorder to say when the various members were born. The Tok Pisan expression for a person;s age is the number of Christmases they;ve had. (Mi kisim 55 krismas tasol.) Later in the week was the first anniversary of my invitation to come to teach at Newton College. I received various emails wishing me a happy St Francis day and/or a happy birthday and I got a couple of birthday cards. Saturday I got three phone calls (Sister Ruth and Brother Richard from San Francisco and my Mom from North Carolina). So I was able to mark the events of the week with personal conversations. Because of the time differences there is about a 3-4 hour time slot each morning when a phone call to/from the US is convenient. As I think about those 3 events it is the last one that seems most significant to me. Birthdays come and go and unless it is a milestone there isn;t a lot to observe. St Francis Day is a big celebration but then so are Christmas, Easter, Pentecost, All Saints, etc. But it is not very often that you get invited to do something that you are willing to leave a job you find rewarding, brothers you enjoy living with and one of the cities where you feel most at-home in order to accept. I realize what I gave up to come here. (And what I have gained while being here more than makes up for what I left behind.) I realize the sacrifices that my coming has imposed on friends, family, and the Franciscan community. And I am grateful for the way that everything worked together so that I could come here. I have a real sense that while I may be the one on the ground here, that my being here is only possible because of the cooperation and support of others. That my birthday and St Francis Day are only days apart provides a convenient reminder of how my different vocations ; different aspects of my totality ; interact with each other and make me who I am. It also gives me a sense of gratitude and so I say thank you.

Classes Resume ; 4 Oct 04

Classes resumed this week. This term I am teaching a survey course in church history from 500 AD to the present. We meet 4 sessions per week to make up for not having had any classes during the 3^rd term. The first half of the year was spent with the first 500 years of church history. The challenge is to deal with major themes of history and how they play out today rather than getting bogged down with the specifics of western european history which have minimal bearing here. I also am teaching preaching to both classes (twice a week for each). The emphasis for the 1^st year students is on story-telling and for the 3^rd year students it is on the use of song, drama, pictures, and other creative arts. Some times people need to preach to people with whom they do not share a common language and so the use of non-verbal communication gains importance. I am also teaching one basic English and one advanced English class to students; wives and have my weekly pastoral/liturgy group. So I am teaching 11 hours a week. Then most evenings I have students coming to see me for tutorials on learning to use a computer. This week we also had problems with water. Six months ago we had too much rain and the caucau (like potatoes) grew lots of leaves but wouldn;t make edible roots. Now things are very dry (there is an el nino) and the water table has dropped so the well we rely on for water is often dry. The rains should have resumed some time ago and there is no indication of when the dry season will end. This afternoon it is very cloudy and that is a good sign. The students and their families are taking the water shortage in stride. After work parades many of us go to the river about a kilometre away to take a bath and in th