Tui Motu
InterIslands
monthly independent Catholic magazine
March 2014 | $7
TaizĂŠ: a parable of community
. editorial
taking on jesus’ new mindset “Make your own the mind of Christ Jesus” (Phil 2:5)
T
he choice of material for this Lenten issue may seem quite odd to many — why the emphasis on an abstract biblical concept called dikaiosynē, righteousness; then on the process of restorative justice; and finally the place of that controversial English saint, Thomas More? They seem to have more to do with crime and punishment than with the place of God in our lives. And if God is the focus of Lent, as God must be, why not enter more directly into the spiritual preparation necessary to celebrate the paschal feast of Easter with the zest and joy that it always brings? Let’s explore this a little. It seems that one of the joys of Pope Francis’ person and thought is that he knows from experience that Christianity is not just things spiritual, no matter how important they may be. Being a faithful Christian is that, and so much
more. In one section of Evangelii Gaudium Francis speaks of the challenge of the Kingdom, that interplay of Gospel and human life, both personal and social, that is the universal principle of Christian living upon which he insists: “... an authentic faith — which is never comfortable or completely personal — always involves a deep desire to change the world, to transmit values, to leave the earth somehow better than we found it” (#183). Focussing then on the inclusion of the poor in society, he talks of their pleas: “The Church has realised that the need to heed this plea [of the poor] is itself born of the liberating action of grace within each of us, and thus it is not a question of mission reserved to a few ... it means working to eliminate the structural causes of poverty and to promote the integral development of the poor as well as small daily acts of solidarity in meeting the real needs
Editorial. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-3
contents
Letters to the editor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4 Comment: The growing invisibility of prisoners . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 Kim Workman God’s justice, our justice . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6–7 Phil McCarthy “Eye for eye” makes the world blind . . . . . . . . . . . 8–9 Cathy Harrison A man for all seasons? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10–11 Judith Potter Interview: Jean Vanier . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12–13 Alicia von Stamwitz With beautiful ears . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14–15 Shaun Davison Poem: You are . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16–17 Alexandra Dumitrescu Silent grace of forgetting . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18–19 Daniel O’Leary An opportunity postponed? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20–21 Jim Consedine
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which we encounter. The word ‘solidarity’ is a little worn and at times poorly understood, but it refers to something more than a few sporadic acts of generosity. It presumes the creation of a new mindset which thinks in terms of community and the priority of the life of all over the appropriation of goods by a few” (#188). This takes us straight back to the question of Lent. Remember Ash Wednesday, when we are signed with ash as the minister, quoting Jesus’ first words in the synoptic gospels, says, “Repent and believe the good news.” This “repent” is much more than the required attendance at the sacrament of reconciliation to which some may think these words of Jesus point. The word “repent” is the nub of this Lenten season. Our Lenten duty is much more. It is the gaining within ourselves and in our Church community that ”new mindset” of
Poem: Meadows . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21 Bridie Southall Why bother? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22-23 Lyn Smith Poem: Lightening the load . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23 Francis Dorff Education as liberation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24–25 Hayden Kingdon Living water from an overflowing well . . . . . . . . . . 26–27 Kathleen Rushton Book and film reviews . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28–29 Crosscurrents . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30 Jim Elliston The heroes in our midst . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31 Robert Consedine A mother’s journal . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32 Kaaren Mathias Cover: The chapel at the monastery of Taizé. [Photo: Shaun Davison.]
which Pope Francis speaks, and which he himself acts out in the midst of the incredible demands of his universal role as Pope. Recall his invitation to the poor living around the doors of the Vatican to come and share a meal with him on his birthday. Recall his going to see the refugee community of Rome, after he had been down to Lampedusa (at the very foot of Italy) to give the assembled media a startling reminder of his global ministry to refugees and migrants. What shall we do to take in a little more of this “new mindset”? There’s the rub, isn’t? Faith never stays still. It either regresses or it goes forward. And part of the uncomfortable reality of pursuing Jesus, as God constantly pursues us, is coming to terms with the new ways that each day are popping up in our tough world to make us think again. How can I make use of these 40 days so as to arrive at Easter Sunday singing, “Truly Jesus, you have risen, and dwell in my heart anew. Know that I am committed to you and your Gospel in a new and challenging way.”? and more . . . The articles by Paul McCarthy, Cathy Harrison and Dame Judith Potter will hopefully help in the disturbing and resetting which gaining a
new mindset requires, as will Kim Workman’s incisive “Comment” (p5). Alongside this, the interview with Jean Vanier and the ideas of Brother Benoît from Taizé will enforce a gentling desire in our hearts and minds, while Lyn Smith’s “Why bother?” will allow us to re-emphasise, with Saint Augustine, what is an absolute fundamental of our lives: that we will be restless until we find rest in God. In the article on St Edmund Ignatius Rice we see how the call of the Irish Christian Brothers to a liberating education is being renewed in our day — it is working a marvellous transformation. At the same time, Jim Consedine with a fine insight into the nature of reconciliation, challenges the Church to rethink the question of the third rite of reconciliation. This is a very timely call. The article by Daniel O’Leary on “dementia” goes well with that on Jean Vanier. Both deal with the sacredness of those human beings who are diminished by illness or have different abilities, especially when seen from the viewpoint of those who care for them. Along with our regular writers — Kaaren Mathias, Robert Consedine and Jim Elliston — and a small raft of poetry, this issue brings a feast for thought and “new mindset” action. May Lent work its spiritual and practical fire in you as a prelude to Easter joy. KT
Tui Motu – InterIslands is an independent, Catholic, monthly magazine. It invites its readers to question, challenge and contribute to its discussion of spiritual and social issues in the light of gospel values, and in the interests of a more just and peaceful society. Inter-church and inter-faith dialogue is welcomed.
1. The price of an individual copy of this magazine is now $7.00 and subscription prices have risen from 1 March of this year (see p31 for details). O me miserum! 2. We encourage you to visit our Facebook page, which is ably looked after by Theresa Vossen. Enjoy the content and add your comments or your ‘like’ if you feel inclined. 3. The online archive of the magazine is being increased exponentially. Part of this can already be looked at and searched by going to our website (www.tuimotu. org) and clicking on the ‘Previous Issues’ button on the left. Look forward to a huge increase in the amount of material that you will be able to access in the very near future. — the Tui Motu team
address: Independent Catholic Magazine Ltd, 52 Union Street, Dunedin North, 9054 P O Box 6404, Dunedin North, 9059 phone: (03) 477 1449 fax: (03) 477 8149 email: tuimotu@earthlight.co.nz website: www.tuimotu.org TuiMotuInterIslands
ISSM 1174-8931 Issue number 180
The name Tui Motu was given by Pa Henare Tate. It literally means “stitching the islands together...”, bringing the different races and peoples and faiths together to create one Pacific people of God. Divergence of opinion is expected and will normally be published, although that does not necessarily imply editorial commitment to the viewpoint expressed.
editor: Kevin Toomey OP assistant editor: Elizabeth Mackie OP illustrator: Donald Moorhead directors: Susan Brebner, Rita Cahill RSJ, Philip Casey (chair), Neil Darragh, Paul Ferris, Robin Kearns, Elizabeth Mackie OP honorary directors: Pauline O’Regan RSM, Frank Hoffmann typesetting and layout: Greg Hings printers: Southern Colour Print, 1 Turakina Road, Dunedin South, 9012
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letters to the editor spring time A Spring Time indeed, resurrection and re-birth of the Church echoing the disciples’ response and approach to continuing the work of Jesus. At last we have a pope truly guided by the spirit within. Pope Francis has put the God of our people back into focus with the people of God. Jesus instigated His church for the people, fully human people who need God’s love first and foremost. My greatest hope and prayer is that Pope Francis will once more reinstate the sacrament of Eucharist to all. Jesus forgave sinners and requested that all share the holy meal, yet high-handed clergy have overridden these very wishes of Christ who forgave and invited those who would condemn to hurl the first stone! “The partaking of the Body and Blood of Christ does nothing other than make us be transformed into that which we consume” (Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, para 55). This is a strength which has been denied many in their struggle to stay close to the Lord. I would also like to see First Holy Communion as the initiating sacrament ahead of confirmation for our young people. Understanding the element of becoming more Christlike and one with His community is essential to growth of the spirit and to ultimate confirmation as members of the Church. Patricia Chaplin, Whangarei
appointment of bishops I love the Cistercians and Kopua, but Fr Max Palmer’s letter in the last edition of Tui Motu about the appointment of bishops was one-eyed. Surely he cannot seriously believe that Rome (whatever he means by that) sits on Bishops’ appointments out of indifference, let alone as intentional injustice? Has it not occurred to him that the hold up with Hamilton may well be of our own making? The consultation process we know is wide. Thus fair and unfair, relevant and red-herring observations will no doubt be offered, requiring a further stage of wise filtering. Then there is 4 Tui Motu InterIslands March 2014
always the possibility that someone was asked but declined to take up the role. That we will never know. To ask the priests, as he suggests, to choose our Bishops would be a disastrous new form of clericalism. God bless us with patience and save us from home-made solutions. Bryan Watts, Wanganui
an option only The Catholic Church is not a democracy. If we want otherwise we best go somewhere else to find ‘our’ church as millions have done over the decades. The laity has little chance of influencing change. We can see examples of this in the way the new translation of the liturgy has been foisted upon us. Father Brendan Ward in the November issue of Tui Motu (Reactions to Liturgical Change) puts the case of the liturgical changes in vivid and clear language. I think I know now whose hand was the last to sign off the terms. Who but Cardinal George Pell of Vox Clara emulating the style of Pope John Paul II. I want to make Catholics aware about the loss of music, particularly the Gloria. The great classical Glorias of the great composers will always be safe, however the regional or local ‘Glorias’ have been supplanted by the syllable changes leaving us with a new version, dreadful to my ears. This is just one of many issues surrounding the ‘fit’ of the language. I am left with negative, depressing thoughts of what the church has become. We are the church and we should be heard. My prayer is that this so-called new translation should be optional as is the Latin Mass. Nina O’Flynn, Paraparaumu
the gift of st patrick Is TM’s series “Hitchhiker’s Guide to Church History” going to mention St Patrick and the contribution of Irish monks to the preservation of Greco/Roman and Judeo/Christian knowledge after the fall of the Roman Empire? Ireland was outside
letters to the editor We welcome comment, discussion, argument, debate. But please keep letters under 200 words. The editor reserves the right to abridge, while not changing the meaning. We do not publish anonymous letters otherwise than in exceptional circumstances. Response articles (up to a page) are welcome — but please, by negotiation.
the Roman Empire, hardly part of the known world. It was a land of illiterate, fierce, pagan warriors. Patrick was one of Christianity’s great missionaries. He spent time as a slave in Ireland, escaped, and about 432 AD, when Roman civilisation was collapsing, returned there to preach the Gospel. Within a few generations the Irish had been tamed (to a certain degree) and become enthusiastic scholars. They accepted the Gospel and unlike other Christians they mostly accepted Patrick’s prohibition of slavery. Literacy flourished and in their monasteries scribes copied ancient manuscripts, creating beautiful works of art. In the 6th century monks went to Iona and spread to England and Gaul. According to historian Kenneth Clark “for quite a long time (nearly 100 years) Western Civilisation survived by clinging to places like Skellig Michael” (an isolated island off the Irish coast). History is written by the winner. After the conquest of Ireland its people were oppressed and despised, letters continued on page 19 . . .
comment
the growing invisibility of prisoners Kim Workman
W
hen the noted prison reformer, Baroness Vivien Stern visited New Zealand in 2008, she made a telling comment about the relationship between civil society and prison. “There are two things you must do with prisons”, she said. “you must put as few people as possible inside them, and ensure that as many people as possible get involved with the prisoners.” The comments come from a strongly held view, (and one which I share) that prison walls must be permeable, that the prison culture should reflect as closely as possible life on the outside and that the reintegration of a prisoner starts on the first day of a sentence. One of the keys to successful prison management is the extent to which prison life is ‘normalised’. The constant presence of volunteers and members of the community is critical for two reasons. First, the presence of community members encourages pro-social behaviour amongst prisoners; the presence of women, for example, results in a moderation of language and promotes respectful conduct. Second, it serves to encourage better behaviour from prison officers, who are far less likely to abuse and ill-treat prisoners in the presence of independent witnesses. The former 60-bed faith-based unit at Rimutaka Prison had an average of 70 volunteer movements a week and the lowest incident record of any prison unit in the country. Over the last decade, however, prisoners have become increasingly invisible. It is the result of two things; limited prisoner access to the public and limited public access to the prison. The Department of Corrections’
obsession with risk management and public safety concerns has produced a prison environment which is more secure, but less safe. Weekend leave, work parole, home leave, church paroles and community engagement are all but things of the past. Risk assessment tools are calibrated so that very few prisoners qualify to work or visit ‘outside the wire’. Reintegration programmes may provide some outside engagement, but usually only in the last few months prior to release. Human contact within the prison is severely limited, with prisoners commonly spending 18 to 20 hours a day in ‘lockdown’. Escapes from prison are the lowest in the world and constant search and surveillance are part of the deal. Any vision for a prison community which reflects the accountability and trust requirements of civil society have long disappeared, and the person that emerges from this environment is unlikely to find it easy to meld back into the community. For the public and volunteers who seek access to the prison and prisoners there is no good news. The prison population rose from 6,048 prisoners in 2002 to 8,600 today. By 2005, due to the efforts of Prison Fellowship and other church-based organisations, the number of registered prison volunteers exceeded 3,000. The Department took over responsibility for volunteer recruitment and management around 2007 and the numbers of volunteers have since declined to 2,500. Volunteers committed to visiting the ‘lost, the last and the lonely’ find it increasingly difficult to get registered and experience constant frustration at the hands of Corrections. Constantly, volunteers are turned away at the
gate on the pretext that the prison is ‘in lockdown’. The media and legal aid lawyers are finding it increasingly difficult to access prisoners; Parole Board hearings are frequently conducted via video; whanau days have all but disappeared; visiting times are severely restricted. Lockdowns prevent prisoners from phoning the family and whanau, other than within a very restricted timeframe. Not-for-Profit organisations such as the Prisoner Aid and Rehabilitation Trust, that once provided the link between civil society and prisoners, have folded for lack of support. Professional service providers have taken their place — organisations that will deliver to a specified output and not spend a penny more. Adding social value is not part of the contract. What would be on my wish list? First, Corrections should reinvest the funding spent on managing and coordinating volunteers into a community based not-for-profit organisation, which would be responsible for recruiting and coordinating the activities of volunteers. Second, the Department of Corrections should have a performance indicator based not on security, but safety. The safety indicator would require an increase in the frequency with which prisoners have access to volunteers and civil society. Third, faith-based and community organisations with a heart for prisoners and their families should make publicly known their dissatisfaction with the status quo and seek a change for the public good. n Kim Workman is Founder and Strategic Adviser for ‘Rethinking Crime and Punishment’.
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a biblical theology of justice
god’s justice, our justice
Phil McCarthy
Two paths to justice, as seen in the New Testament, are clearly laid out for us. The writer points out that the misunderstanding of divine justice as punitive has over-influenced our Western ideas of criminal justice. Then he contrasts this with the call to restorative justice at the heart of God’s reconciling plan of love and justice.
R
ecently I’ve come to recognise that different understandings about the nature of God’s justice lie at the heart of two very different formulations of Christian faith. One of those focuses on the individual. In this model, God’s wrath is often the primary feature of God’s character and the work of the cross saves me from God’s anger
Phil McCarthy
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at my sin and the punishment that God’s justice requires. justice as retribution In this theological worldview, ‘the gospel’ often is not announced by Jesus but taught by Paul. It can focus not on the eternal plan of Yahweh to restore and redeem creation but on the justification and possibly evacuation of the individual sinner. Justice in this understanding of faith is retributive; the focus is on punishment, and on the means — through Jesus as ‘my personal saviour’ — of avoiding ‘my just desserts’. If we begin from this theological perspective, it might profoundly affect our approach to crime and punishment. It is certainly consistent with the modern secular understanding of justice as a punitive balancing of the scales; whether or not justice is seen to be done is measured by the sufficiency of the penalty. In our society, inadequate punishment equals a failure of justice. Chris Marshall sees ‘two way traffic’ occurring between a retributive
Christianity and our western justice system. First, “the logic of criminal justice and law” has caused us to misunderstand divine justice as punitive. In turn, a punitive understanding of the justice of God has grievously influenced western penal thought and practice. “The belief that God punished Christ retributively for the sins of the world in defence of his own holiness has frequently been used in western history to justify excessively harsh treatment of criminals.” Is it because so many Americans see their faith, and their God, through this punishment-oriented lens that the USA is the only western nation to maintain the death penalty? Before heading in a more positive direction, a brief word about translation. I am way beyond my competence here but I do need to acknowledge the debate about ‘dikaiosyne’, the Greek word usually translated as ‘righteousness’ but closely linked to justice. We know that particular translation of the word is inadequate today because it takes us in a smug direction, and can mask for us the deep concern of
the Biblical narrative with justice. As Tom Wright says, “we want a word that can pack ‘justice’, ‘covenant faithfulness’ and ‘right standing and relationship’ all into the same word” but we haven’t got one! justice, covenant-faithfulness A very different understanding of justice lies at the heart of the alternative model, which propels us into community, into relationship. God’s ‘righteousness’, God’s ‘justice’, is precisely God’s covenant faithfulness to the promises God makes to restore, reconcile and redeem the people and creation. The Creator God is also the Covenant God, who in relationship and through a Spirit-empowered people continues to create and heal. God’s judgement is real, but not punitive; instead, it speaks the truth. Its purpose is not for the sake of punishment, but for the sake of putting to rights that which is wrong — in other words for naming and dealing with the evil that has infected the world, and so to bring about God’s new, renewed creation. The ‘truth’ is that Yahweh is moving to reconcile, heal and restore, has always done so and is doing so now through Jesus who is the way, truth and life, in the sense that he is the means through which the Father maintains God’s faithfulness and demonstrates God’s justice. god’s healing plan God’s justice, God’s eternal plan, is restorative and reconciling. The Spirit of God seeks to heal, to repair broken relationships, to restore society, and to put an end to conflict and cycles of vengeance and retribution between people and between nations. God’s justice is communal in nature. It rebalances societies, renews hearts, reconciles peoples, and restores right relationships — politically and economically as well as personally. It is more concerned with the restoration of relationship, of a right and just order, than punishment of the offender. It is a justice demonstrated in acts of love and compassion,
especially to the oppressed and the outcast, bringing healing and reconciliation, not primarily punishment. God’s justice is the pre-condition for God’s peace. This restoring justice lies at the heart of the kingdom we are called to build and proclaim while we await the New Heavens and New Earth, and the rule of the King, come to dwell with his people (Rev 21).
God’s justice ... is more concerned with the restoration of relationship, of a right and just order, than punishment of the offender. In the face of society’s vain belief that punishment of criminals is an effective response to the deep-seated social ills that nurture much offending, God’s heart for the poor calls us rather to respond to the poverty, the mental un-wellness, the drug dependence, the institutional racism and the educational failures that set too many on the path to prison. In the face of cries for revenge, we are called to remember and implement the ‘Constitution of the Kingdom’, the sermon on the Mount, and turn our face in a different direction. In the face of the predominant view that offenders are to be rejected and dumped, we remember the proclamation by Jesus of God’s forgiving, healing, reconciling and redemptive justice and love, and we take available opportunities to
support the reintegration of offenders into the community. god’s restorative justice In the face of a system that inserts the state between victim and offender and sets the two against each other, we remember that God’s restorative justice calls for a focus on healing of torn relationship. Finally, in the face of the fundamental belief that criminals are ‘different’, we recall that all of us are enslaved by the cosmic force of sin and are rescued by the one great act of love on Calvary; an act whose purpose was not to deflect the Father’s anger from ‘me’ but rather, in Christ Victorious, to defeat the forces that seek to enslave all of us, and all of God’s good creation. God’s justice mirrors God’s infinite compassionate love. Let me conclude with Tom Wright again: “What the Christian gospel offers, and what Christian movements must urgently offer in their formation of communities of faith, hope, prayer and witness, is ... a love which manifestly is seeking its neighbour’s good rather than its own, a love which goes out into the public square not in order to gain power, prestige or money but in order to incarnate that love of God which is expressed precisely in God’s putting of all things to rights, God’s righteousness, God’s justice.” n Phil McCarthy was head of the Prison Service for 10 years and is currently moving from Rethinking Crime & Punishment to the role of National Director of Prison Fellowship NZ. He is a member of Tawa Anglican Parish.
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restorative justice
“eye for eye” makes the world blind This is a record of interviews with people who have taken part in a process of restorative justice. Building on a theology of reconciliation and healing, it brings the possibility of change and a fillip to reintegration in the community. Cathy Harrison “He was very overwhelmed having me sit there confronting him with stories of how his crime had had a serious impact on my family and me over many years … I faced him … Restorative justice has enabled me to get my life back …” (The victim of a serious offence)
C
athy Harrison spoke with Chris Nolan, co-ordinator of the Edmund Rice Justice Trust (ER) and a conference facilitator. “Defined simply”, said Chris, “Restorative Justice (RJ) is healing the effects of crime — the bigger the crime, the greater the potential for healing.” High-end, post sentence crimes including murder, rape, manslaughter and drink-driving causing death, are referred internally to ER for conferencing. How can healing possibly occur after such crimes? In this article an authoritative answer is provided by two recent participants of RJ Conferences — the victim of one crime and the offender in another. Both crimes occurred some years ago. Identities have been withheld for privacy purposes. Grounded in their own reality they recalled the meaning and value of the RJ process. This was the focus of the interview. Concealed in their stories is the extraordinary capacity of the human spirit to exceed expectations of self and society. “In spite of its brutality and destructiveness, trauma has the power to open victims to issues of profound existential and spiritual significance,” claims Trauma Psychologist Robert Grant. This is evident in the three heartfelt RJ narratives which follow — from the perspectives of a victim, an offender, and a facilitator. 8 Tui Motu InterIslands March 2014
victim’s perspective I heard about RJ through the Parole Board and then Victim Support. I couldn’t have done it without support. I walked in and thought I can’t do this … No, I thought, this is the right time. I faced him. I have been in the same room and looked at him. Everything, all the hatred and suffering I had held for all those years gathered into one, in that room. He was very overwhelmed having me sit there confronting him with stories of how his crime had had a serious impact on my family and me over many years. I was surprised I could sit there and do this without crying. I spoke and then he spoke. He took responsibility. He said sorry. I felt he was genuine. He was overwhelmed. He cried. He no longer has power over me. I had felt that I was the one in prison all those years. Restorative justice has enabled me to get my life back … The timing has to be right. It wouldn’t have worked earlier. My family wanted to come but they still have hatred in their hearts. It wouldn’t have worked with them there. I needed to do this on my own … There was much preparation. The process was very good. I felt very emotional as it got closer, crying alone at night … but I knew that I had to be strong for my family.
RESTORATIVE JUSTICE
A o t e a r o a
Doing it has made me not only stronger, I’m feeling freer … I wasn’t expecting that. I had been carrying a great weight for many years. But after facing him I came out and felt so much lighter — because I put it back to him and gave him the responsibility. I felt the weight lift when I walked out … I couldn’t believe it. There have been anti-depressants for many years — I didn’t like it but it helped me cope. Now I’m off them and feel good about myself. Nothing can change what has happened, but through RJ I’ve been able to go back and can now go forward. This is a spiritual thing for me. It isn’t forgiveness — I just had to move on, to be in a better place. For a long time I haven’t had the confidence I have now. People comment on the change. They say I’m lighter! I have sowed new grass and planted trees. The sky is bluer … I see all life differently. It’s important not just for me but my family. I hope it will teach them also to move on. offender’s perspective I heard about RJ in the late 90s. I was approached then and refused … no way I would ever do this … it was far too tough. In time, my conscience developing, I let it be known that if any of my victims wanted RJ I was willing. But no one was interested which was a bit of a relief. After 15 years of my 18-year sentence I was approached to consider meeting a member of my victim’s family. She said she had to do this because she’d had enough.
“They say I’m lighter! . . . The sky
is bluer . . . I see all life differently.”
I met with facilitators and went through process. How did I feel? … Any reservations? … Did I want to go ahead? I feared doing more harm than good. I was scared my victim would turn up and leave not having the answers she was looking for, or feeling even more distraught. I take my hat off to the lady. She had to come to the environment where I was, prison, intimidating in its own right, and sit in front of me with my tats and missing front teeth — and I’m not a small lad. This is probably the scariest thing I ever faced. I didn’t want to escape but as I got closer it was the slowest walk I ever did. I’ve faced multiple people who wanted to cause me bodily harm and did not find it as scary as this. Every flaw in my character felt magnified. At the end of the day all that is considered flawed or bad about you is presented to you. Ten years ago I wouldn’t have given a shit but counselling and group work helped. I’m a father myself. I ask myself, if that was my daughter, my sister, or mum, how would I feel? I guess I’ve learned empathy. To help her understand how I became so bitter and twisted she asked about my personal background. I answered her questions. At first the atmosphere was real heavy, very anxious, very nervous. She got seriously emotional. I just had to stop … and regather myself.
She asked why I hadn’t contacted her family. I replied that we are not allowed to make contact with victims … This was the first she knew of it. I couldn’t believe no one had ever told her that. She told me what she went through and how it affected her family. You just don’t hear that stuff inside. This was what she needed to do for her to end her suffering … It was emotional for both of us. I was holding back tears, coming from the old school — big boys don’t cry. It was real healing. She asked me questions and I was open and honest. I came away feeling better as a man … a hard thing. It gave me my dignity back. At the end a massive weight lifted off — it was humbling. Now there are supportive people around me and I have a job. The tats are coming off. It’s like shedding my skin … I am having Christmas for the first time in 20 years with my daughter … facilitator’s perspective It’s a hard process for everyone — for victims facing offenders and for offenders fronting up to those they’ve harmed. There’s a lot of preparation. The safety of participants is critical. This means “No Surprises!” There are victim and offender initiated referrals. Preparation includes assessing motivation, suitability and readiness of both parties. Facilitators visit each participant and establish principles and process as well as the ‘why’ and hopes of the meeting.
Some people believe healing isn’t possible. I’ve encountered healing in the most dire circumstances. Forgiveness isn’t a requirement but it’s often an outcome — it’s amazing when it happens. For example: … By the end of a conference a victim came to an understanding of where things were at for the offender — the cycles of violence he initiated throughout life — she realised that his view had totally changed and she now supported his release into the community. This was quite a shift. I was blown away. Initial anger often leads to a truly transformative process. Once victims get what they need off their chest and have their questions answered you see a shift to a greater acceptance. It’s the same for offenders. They feel that fronting up and taking some responsibility for what they did is rewarding and serves as a reminder of the harm they caused. This is a powerful motivator for change and helps their reintegration into the community. n Cathy Harrison comments: It is with deep gratitude I acknowledge each participant for their courage and insight. Chris Nolan spoke of the privilege of being involved in RJ processes. Society is privileged to have prophetic individuals and networks like Te Kaupapa Whakaora. Oh for the same transformative moments in our retributive penal system and indifferent society. Blessed are those with an eye for Restorative Justice.
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the virtue of thomas more
a man for all seasons? Saint Thomas More is a person who provides us with endlessly fascinating study. Some of his attitudes and principles seem quite out of context and strange now, while others are happily contemporary and helpful. Here a former High Court Justice takes a deeper look at More’s views on women and their applicability now. Judith Potter
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homas More was learned, yes; wise, yes; with a strong religious faith, undoubtedly; and a distinguished lawyer and Lord Chancellor, principled and fair, certainly. There is another virtue of St Thomas More which struck with me a chord that might not have universal impact. He supported the education of women in an age when few had such foresight and vision. He tutored his first wife, Jane Colt, in music and literature to give her a better education than she had at home. Yet, it seems, he was openly disparaging and discourteous towards his second wife, Alice Middleton, who was apparently less docile than Jane Colt.
to grief in distress — even though misfortune strike her down. For this reason your lifetime companion will be ever agreeable, never a trouble or a burden. If she is well instructed herself, then some day she will teach your little grandsons, at an early age, to read ... When she speaks, it will be difficult to choose between her perfect power of expression and her thoughtful understanding of all kinds of affairs.” And in Utopia, More’s most famous work written in 1516, women are seen as contributing to the public good — although this is admittedly in the idealistic world of Utopia rather than in reality.
education for women He had three daughters and Alice Middleton had a daughter whom he raised as his own. For all of them he assured the same classical education as for his son, a highly unusual attitude at the time. His eldest daughter, Margaret, was admired for her erudition and he was proud of that. His reasons for supporting education for women might not coincide with those who have urged and insisted upon education and equal opportunities for women in more recent times. In his work To Candidus Thomas More says: “Happy is the woman whose education permits her to derive from the best of ancient works the principles which confer a blessing on life. Armed with this learning, she would not yield to pride in prosperity, nor
women’s equality? It is an unavoidable truth that, whereas some women in Utopia may rule, men ultimately do so in general; however, it is nevertheless true that Utopian women share physical labour with men, face the dangers of
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Dame Judith Potter
war alongside them, and have what is arguably sexual equality with them. In several disparate respects they are treated as men’s equals while being, for the most part (at the least), radically subordinated to them. Women are occasionally but still significantly placed above men. More even contemplates that in Utopia women can embrace priesthood, but he contemplates only widows “of advanced years” doing so, because they are no longer “useful” as far as their womanly duties are concerned: “... they may devote themselves to God as if in expectancy of their ultimate fate. They become sexless women, almost ungendered creatures in the eyes of God and of their fellowmen.” Unhappy observations to my way of thinking. But how does this differ from the view expressed in the New Zealand Parliament in 1896, three and a half centuries later, when the Honourable (bless his cotton socks) Sir George Stoddart Whitmore, opposing the passage of the Female Law Practitioners Act, which would permit women to practise law, said it would have the effect of: “… inducing a number of females to quite unsex themselves and to neglect the ordinary female duties.” (Incidentally, Sir George Whitmore was described by James Belich in The New Zealand Wars as having “an awesome capacity to inspire dislike.”) Thomas More recognises in
the passage I have quoted from To Candidus, that the woman herself will benefit from education — she will be happy and blessed in life. However, his reasons for this progressive view are shaped and constrained by the customs and context of the period in which he lived and wrote. place of social context Social context is always of great importance and relevance. This is a fact of which, as a Judge, I became increasingly aware, innately but also from experience and education. Moreover, social context is, I consider, crucial in explaining and understanding the demerits and limitations of the saintly man, Thomas More. His religious convictions were rooted in his belief in the supremacy of God, which he identified with the Pope, the head of the Catholic Church on earth. No mortal, King or otherwise, could claim supremacy over God. No religion which would permit this could be tolerated. Given his convictions he saw little room for tolerance. A man with a household and young children, needed a wife and mother. Women, who could not hold property and indeed were by law, mere chattels, the property of their fathers or husbands, needed a husband for a home and security — even more so if they had children of their own, as did Alice Middleton. So in the 16th century, marriage for the upper and middle classes, who could afford such contracts and conventions, was often a matter of necessity which sometimes did not permit of concerns such as indecent haste. I digress briefly to note that in New Zealand nothing much had changed when Ethel Benjamin, the first woman lawyer in our country, was invited to speak at her graduation ceremony in Dunedin in 1895. For Ethel Benjamin to practise law required the passage of the Female Law Practitioners Act 1896 to which I have already referred. The Law Practitioners Act current at that time, referred to “persons” and
Saint Thomas More by Hans Holbein
“persons” did not include women. The preamble to the 1896 Act reads: “Whereas women are now prevented by statute from exercising their talents in the study and practice of the law, and it is desirable that such disability shall no longer continue …” Ethel Benjamin must have been a late recruit to speak at the graduation ceremony in 1895 for she said: “It was only yesterday that I was asked to undertake this pleasant task, and while deeply sensible of the compliment paid to me, I was somewhat diffident about taking so much upon myself at so short a notice. But I knew that little would be expected of me and even if I succeeded in talking nonsense, the charitable verdict would be, oh well, it is all that can be expected of a woman.” She went on to say: “… it is well that women should make such an inroad into the fields of labour. We should come to a position where women should be economically independent of men and should marry for love and not just for a home.” late recognition of rights It was to take nearly 70 years before the Matrimonial Property and Matrimonial Proceedings Acts of 1963 gave some legislative recognition to the women’s rights to which Ethel Benjamin referred. And New
Zealand was ahead of the pack in these reforms. Her speech was regarded as an outrage and foreshadowed the stormy, difficult and all too brief career Ethel Benjamin experienced in Dunedin. Education for women, however, was receiving strong encouragement. In 1893 when women were granted the right to vote, Kate Sheppard, who appears on the back of our ten dollar note, said: We women need self education, and we know of no more thorough method of educating ourselves and each other, than by discussion and study. Having obtained a franchise, it is of the utmost importance that we women should be thoughtful and well informed. I have little doubt that had St Thomas More lived four centuries later he would have agreed with Kate Sheppard. He was a man of great wisdom, principle and foresight who as Lord Chancellor had advocated the accord of equity and the common law, and did much to advance this. He was able to look beyond the confines of the conventions of his time to value education for women. Nearly four centuries later the conventional wisdom in our country was still struggling to do so and in many parts of the world, sadly and disastrously, still is. St Thomas More was human. He was fallible. He had defects in his character and philosophies which, at least from today’s perspective, tend to raise questions about his saintliness. But I think by reason of his fallibilities, we are more readily able to understand and value him for the positive principles he espoused clearly and unreservedly, to the point of death. n Dame Judith Potter is a retired Justice of the High Court of New Zealand, living in Auckland. This article is an adaptation of part of the Thomas More address she gave in Auckland on October 9th last year. You may find the full text of her words under www.tuimotu.org/articles. 11 Tui Motu InterIslands March 2014
interview with jean vanier
god’s tenderness for humanity In this interview, Jean Vanier, the Canadian philosopher and founder of L’Arche, talks about living with people with intellectual disabilities and of God’s tenderness for humanity. Alicia von Stamwitz
came back, I asked him what had happened. He said, “The doctor looked into my heart.” I said, “Well, what did he see in your heart?” Andrew said, “He saw Jesus, of course.” Then I said to him, “What does Jesus do in your heart?” And Andrew said, “Jesus rests there.” In the French the phrase is “il se repose”—the sense is “he takes his quietness there.”
Jean Vanier
Q You’ve lived alongside people with intellectual disabilities for nearly 50 years now. What have they taught you about God? A There is a mystery behind people with disabilities. I find that in many ways, they are a presence of Jesus. We see their littleness, their fragility, their pain — and yet at the same time we can say that they speak of God. As we enter into relationship with them, they change us. I spent a year living in community with a man named Andrew. One day, he went to see a cardiologist. When he 12 Tui Motu InterIslands March 2014
Q It sounds like something a mystic might say. A Yes, this is what all the mystics say. It’s what the gospels say. Jesus comes to live in our hearts. Etty Hillesum, who died at Auschwitz, said this sort of thing too. At one point, she said, God can’t do very much for us now, but we can do something for God. We can give God our hearts, because he needs to have places where he can dwell in this world, in a world where he is being rejected. Q Why do you think so few of us are able to celebrate the gifts of the intellectually disabled? A For a lot of people, to have a child “like that,” with a disability, means that they have done something wrong or have some evil in their genealogy. So the rejection of the child may be in one sense a defense of their own integrity. Also, some people don’t want others to know that their child is Down syndrome because they are afraid that it will make it more difficult for their other children to get married. So for the majority of
people, it is a shame. But actually, being with the disabled can heal us. Q How so? A The disabled have something to bring to others. There is something very particular in their kindness, in their affection. I spent a year living at la Forestière with the most severely disabled members here, and I would give them baths. It is a great mystery to touch the bodies of those who are so fragile and who don’t communicate verbally, but who somehow still communicate with all their body. Their bodies say, simply, “Love me.” It’s something that rises up from within them, and that is what touches me most deeply. Q That reminds me of something you once said — that tenderness is at the very heart of L’Arche. A Yes. I once asked our community psychiatrist, What, to you, does it mean to be human — a pure human person? And he said “tenderness.” Tenderness is deeply respectful of the other, not possessing in any way, but giving the other security. Q When you first invited two intellectually disabled men, Raphael Simi and Philippe Seux, to live with you in 1964, did you have any special training? A No. How do you prepare to live with another human being? You learn as you go along. You don’t need to have a school for mothers to teach them to love their babies. It’s natural
to love, to have fun, to be attentive, to be kind. Later I was asked to take over a large institution for the disabled, and then I needed help because there was a lot of violence there. I asked a psychiatrist to help me, and I had to learn about the sources of violence and some aspects of mental sickness. But Raphael and Philippe had no mental sickness, they were just highly slowed up. Q That is an important distinction: between those who are “slowed up” and those who have a mental illness. Do you have both at L’Arche today? A Mainly we have those with intellectual disabilities, but the frontier between the two can be pretty thin. Q You’ve said that it’s important to trust your intuition. Has your intuition ever led you astray? A Yes. We started some communities that didn’t work out. So there are times when you think you’re doing the right thing, but it turns out not to be right. But that’s part of life. Maybe the experience taught you something. You always have to learn from mistakes. Q Someone once described you as an unconventional Christian. What do you think they meant by that? A I don’t know. What is conventional and what is unconventional? What I can say is that there’s something happening here in L’Arche that hasn’t yet been fully understood in the church. See, St. Paul says that God has chosen what is weak and foolish to confound the intellectuals and the powerful. He wasn’t speaking about the intellectuals and powerful outside the church: he was speaking about the intellectuals and powerful inside the church. The church frequently intellectualizes faith. But to love is to let the other rest in your heart, as Andrew put it. How many people would say that? And yet it’s right at the heart of the mystery of all the gospels. The
whole vision of Jesus is there: to live in us as we live in him. Q Tell us about L’Arche’s sister organization, Faith and Light. A Faith and Light is an international association of people with disabilities and those who care about them. We founded Faith and Light in 1971, and we now have 12,500 groups in 84 countries. One important thing is that they are a very visible network of communities because they are based in parishes. Other people in the parish see the Faith and Light members gathering and they can get to know them. L’Arche can be invisible — we have little, private houses with very few people — but Faith and Light groups are out in the world. Q What is the essential message of L’Arche for the world? A L’Arche is essentially a place where you come to love and to accept people exactly as they are, with all that is broken in them. Not to change them, but to accept them. To build relationships of trust. The heart of L’Arche’s message is the text of Jesus: When you give a meal, don’t invite the members of your family, don’t invite your rich neighbours, don’t invite your friends. When you want to give a really good
meal, invite the poor, the lame, the disabled and the blind. That is to say: Don’t just remain only in the clan or the tribe, surrounded by your friends. This is a danger for a lot of people — to remain in the tribe where everybody’s just flattering each other. Get to know those on the outside! Q For some those may be challenging words. How can we begin? A Maybe we can go and visit an old people’s home and invite one of the old people out to a meal. But it’s important not to force things. The vision is to be open, to open the door to new friendships. Frequently, in my mind, it’s about what might happen if you are attentive. For instance, I might have a cousin whose husband has just died. She doesn’t live too far away, and maybe I didn’t like that cousin too much — she was a bit of a pain in the neck — but maybe she’s the one that I can invite to a meal. Maybe she’s the one on the outside. Sometimes opening up like this leads us to new discoveries, to profound and unexpected meetings. n Alicia von Stamwitz lives in St. Louis, Missouri, from where she works as a freelance author and editor mainly with the religious press.
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the community of Taizé
with beautiful ears Taizé is a unique expression of Church. Shaun Davison
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n many ways Taizé is the epitome of simplicity. Offered simple food and basic accommodation you are given the opportunity to chant with a group of monks. Yet this attracts between 500 and 5,000 people aged 19–29, every week of the year. As well as that, hundreds of oldies (over 30!), from a diverse range of Christian Church backgrounds, return year after year (one woman was there for her seventeenth time). What is it that the brothers at Taizé offer the world and what can we learn for our own church communities? On a recent trip to Europe, my wife and I visited Taizé and I had the opportunity to speak to one of the monks, Brother Benoît. I was interested in finding out what he thought brought people to Taize. I was also curious about what the brothers thought was essential and unchanging and also
Brother Benoît [Photo: Shaun Davison]
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what might be fluid and adaptable. After a warm hello, Brother Benoît guided me into a small outdoor enclosure where he began speaking in his poetic French accent … “The striking thing is that people discover their true selves when they are in the midst of people who are very different. For some reason when we are surrounded by difference and this is accepted, then we feel at home. We feel that we belong. Being international and ecumenical enriches our lives. This is the exact opposite of what we are led to believe. In fact it is in our diversity that we are most at home. “In this secular society of today, people forget that they need to be connected with a community of believers. Here they find such a community of peoples, a community who share the same questions and have the same doubts. It is the meeting together of peoples and their sharing together that allows the community to live and have breath. “At the same time it is constantly a surprise for us that so many want to join with us. Taizé is not a place that we want people to stay. We want more for them to go back to their churches, go back to their lives, and live the gospel. Pope John Paul described Taizé as a coming past place. It is a place that peoples come past and renew themselves. They restore their faiths. Like thirsty people — Taizé is a source to quench their thirst. “But what I should have said in the first place is that I don’t know. There are as many good reasons as there are persons. And to be honest you will need to ask them.
“Brother Roger (the founder of Taizé) often said that we are not here to start a movement that is new or to follow the young people. There are so many movements, another one is not needed. No, our priority is to be part of the Church and to live the gospel in our daily lives. Even if the people stopped coming we would not follow the young people — we would simply follow Jesus. “Brother Alois (present Prior) wrote a letter to all peoples calling for a new solidarity over the next 3 years. This will coincide with Brother Roger’s 100 years anniversary and 75 years of our order. It is an encouragement for all peoples to make solidarity with all others on the earth. It is an invitation to act in solidarity. Not in the way that looks back. Rather to continue the way forward that Brother Roger opened for us all. And that solidarity is based on prayer and acting in accordance with the gospels. “The most important thing for us is acting in accordance with the Gospel. This forms the life of our community. Before anything of the others, we are called to live our lives together. If we forget to love each other there is something wrong — we are not living in accord with the bible. We also are called to care for others, but we are able to welcome them, care for them, only because we do so as a community. “The second thing of most importance is the place of prayer. The style of prayer changes over the years, a little different here, a little different there, but these are only the changes. The importance of prayer is never to change.
“The element of the third is our fervent desire for reconciliation. We feel the call for ecumenism. We are to open up ways to mend the breaks between our churches. And not only our Christian churches but to remind us of the family of peoples to which we all belong. “And of course we are seeing the importance of hospitality. We have a responsibility to others. This has often been part of the monastic tradition and we are the same. We always have the empty plate around the table for the one who may join us. “As for the changes, the first 20 years of the life of the original 12 brothers was a time of quiet. Then came the 1950s and 1960s and Vatican II opened the door of ecumenism widely. And then the young people began to come. We had to learn how to welcome all these people, how to accommodate them but most important how to receive from them their questions and how to include their questions in the decisions that we were making. “Originally all our singing was in French, but from the questions came a desire for greater inclusion. We made the change to short songs that are repeated and that are in many different languages. Now this way of singing is part of our identity. “Another example is that we had a request from a magazine about what are the needs of young people in Europe. So today we will ask the young people that are here that same question. What are their needs? We will not be telling but simply listening to what are they saying — what are their views. “Yes, that is another thing of great importance — our mission is to listen, to be good listeners to our young people. Our most beautiful mission is to have beautiful ears.” Over the next days I asked many people why they came back to Taizé. The responses circled around similar themes; feeling welcomed, enjoying diversity, simple enriching ritual and being listened to. The Brothers’ “beautiful ears” were evident to all. One woman said, “At Taizé we are reminded of the better part of ourselves and when we go home we carry this better part back into our lives.” Another said that at Taizé he experienced Church as it should be — a Church that listens first and speaks through living the Gospel and serving the poor. I have since wondered whether it really is that simple … and that hard. n Shaun Davison is the Director of Religious Studies at Pompallier College Whangarei, recently on sabbatical in the northern hemisphere. 15 Tui Motu InterIslands March 2014 Chapel at Baizé. [Photo: Shaun Davison]
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Photo: Diamond Creek, Glenorchy, New Zealand. Š Mike Brebner
You are You are the loved one Who does not cease to love You are the friend Who never leaves You are the relative Who never ignores me You are the child Who never disappoints Your moves are as predictable as the sun’s and the storm Your mind as clear as the succession of seasons Your logic humane, and beyond the human, for I see Glimpses of reasons beyond reason You are by my side when the friends turn foes Or just leave on other quests, busy When the lover turns detached and the children unfold other projects that do not include me. You are with me, and your love and joy Is all I ever want in this life and existence Slowly peeling away the sheaths that cover The self’s beauty, its radiant presence — Alexandra Dumitrescu
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spiritualtiy
silent grace of forgetting It is difficult caring for people in the last stages of dementia when all sense of the person’s identity appears lost. But God’s grace is present even in this situation if only it is sought, and being in the presence of sufferers can reveal a window to a more profound truth. Daniel O’Leary
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utumn evenings cast faint shadows across the landscape of our soul. Nature is preoccupied with fall and endings. There are hints of death, of our own death, all around. We wonder how we will die. Recent reports tell of the increasing numbers who fear death by dementia. Since one in four people in their final decades is affected by it, it is called the epidemic of the twenty-first century. There is no one cause and no known cure. As dementia advances, there is an urgent need for “person work”, for a care-filled reverence in this delicate and fragile world of the soul. A spirituality around dementia has to do with giving back to people their humanness, their sense of identity, of being their own person. Friends and carers are called to be, in a sense, the memory for the person, to hold the fragments of a life together, a life to be seen, perhaps, in the context of past courageous enterprise and creative achievement. It is not our minds alone that make us human. A robust faith believes in something deeper than thinking within all dementia sufferers — a precious place or spirit that is unreachable by anything that happens to them, no matter how severe, a kind of virgin soul that is impervious to the vicissitudes of human experience. Thomas Merton writes of “the secret beauty of their hearts where neither sin nor desire nor self-awareness can reach, the core of their reality, the person that each one is in God’s eyes”. 18 Tui Motu InterIslands March 2014
In his valuable website (www. telostraining.co.uk), Ben Bano urges carers to remember and reinforce this sacred self-hood of people with dementia, even as their grasp on it weakens. So much will depend on the carer’s own inner spiritual understanding of the bodysoul interdependence. Staying true to the principles of Incarnation, it is through the senses that the inner shrine is reached. They are the thresholds to the soul. The graciousness of the carer’s eyes — windows out and windows in; the touch of the friend’s hands — extensions of the heart; the dignity of the helper’s composure — the body betrays the inner state of the soul; the dignity of the carer’s voice, the radiance from his or her physical presence, the real reverence for the mystery of the other. Embodied love is the sacrament of invisible grace that somehow touches the fretful, demented mind and soul, and, beyond all our explanations, works silent wonders. All of this work is the Gospel fully lived, but with no thanks, no reward, no payback — just an inspirited lavishing of loving and devoted attention. Sheila Cassidy calls it the extravagant and compassionate outpouring of “our precious ointment” on those marginalised and isolated. To see the other through the eyes of God, the carer must be faithful to her inner work. It takes a lot of personal transformation to become an unconditionally loving presence that transcends even the invisible walls of dementia.
It is only with the sacramental vision of Christianity that we can see the divine hand in all fading and dying. God is totally present at all stages of development and diminishment, as fully incarnate in the dying autumn poppy as in the ravishing rose of summer, as totally present in the person enduring the dark night of the mind as in the cerebral brilliance of a Thomas Aquinas. It was, in fact, this very saint and scholar who believed that beneath the surface of earthly dimness, diminishment and dying there is always a shimmering of divine light and beauty. Can we now speak of a dignity in the physical and mental decline that characterises dementia? Can we perceive a rare spiritual quality, a gain and loss, as the fragmentation of the personality of the loved one progresses? In her book Touch the Spirit: connecting to the inner world of dementia, Dr Deborah Forrest uses the term “dementia consciousness” to describe the inner awareness of the person with dementia, the person alive inside, the enduring presence of the human spirit, the life-force, the soul-force that is shifting away from the head towards the heart and soul. This, she says, opens new channels for communication. Something of God’s essence can somehow be revealed and affirmed in the cognitive and physical decline of dementia. Incarnation graces all of us with a real priesthood whereby we consecrate each other. “Carers”, or “helpers”, become equal partners in a spiritual quest. Peter Kevern suggests a more empowering way of seeing the relationship between dementia patients, those around them, and
divine grace. In his essay “What sort of God is to be found in dementia?” he asks: “If we are all in God’s image, then the world is not divisible into patients and carers in any stable way — the dividing line of these constituencies runs through each of us.” Pauline, a friend, ministers to S who is in the last stages of dementia. “Even though her mind has left her, I have nothing to give her,” Pauline told me. “But in her embrace I know I am loved by God. For me she is the living presence of the divine. When I leave her I feel I am a better person, as though I had been in a sacred place.” Beyond being objects of compassion or subjects of benevolence, dementia sufferers can be perceived as a gift, a window that reveals a more profound truth, a face of God. Theological ethicist Stanley Hauerwas, calling on the deepest implications of Incarnation, suggests that God subjects the Godself to dementia in solidarity with the dementing person, to guarantee their authentic humanity and divinity. Maybe, then, the seeming loss and emptiness of dementia is a purifying preparation for what the eye has not seen or the ear heard. After all, everything must begin to fade away, die in us, for the new dawn to break over us. In “Disabled or Enabled; Ethical and Theological Issues for Dementia Care”, published as a chapter in the book edited by Elizabeth MacKinlay, Ageing, Disability and Spirituality, Rosalie Hudson writes: “Perhaps the person with dementia — freed from all pretension, totally incapable of spiritual self-examination — might be an icon of God’s grace to us — in the divine dance of Trinitarian love we are all welcomed as partners; we are drawn into the space of the Father, Son and Spirit, even when we have forgotten the steps…” n Father Daniel O’Leary’s website is: www.djoleary.com This article is published by kind permission of the London Tablet (www.the tablet.co.uk)
letters to the editor their faith discriminated against. Is this why her contribution to our civilisation is ignored? Kath Kenrick, Dunedin
old and new liturgy In 2008 I visited Westminster Cathedral in London and discovered a Latin rite Mass was about to start in the basement. It took some finding but I found the experience nostalgic and spiritual although my altar-boy Latin had not survived all that well. The small congregation was gathered around the altar and I felt involved in the Mass. Recently I attended Sunday Latin Rite Mass in St. Kilda, Melbourne at St Aloysius Church and found it to be a completely different experience. The congregation was well divorced in the church from the altar and the back to the congregation officiating priest. Neither could the Latin be heard. It made me appreciate how fortunate it is in these days to be involved in the Mass by way of responses even if here in New Zealand we do not lift our hands in prayer whilst praying the Lord’s Prayer. Score one for Vatican II. Michael Fenton, Invercargill
language and belief The recent disquiet voiced by Tui Motu readers on the New Missal touches on a small part of more far reaching issues for the Church. Thanks to Peter Murnane, Adrienne Dunlop and Bernie Thomas for highlighting some of the disturbing linguistic approaches the Church has incorporated into the text of the New Missal. This is a document which is meant to be suitable for public worship but comes across more like a theological treatise. I have been involved in a project over the last 3 years to translate the Missalette into New Zealand Sign Language (NZSL).
. . . continued from page 4 This project has been a huge challenge undertaken and initiated by a group of Catholic Deaf themselves. Quite apart from the broad and unique challenges of translating from a spoken and written language into a visual language, the translation process has also thrown up some interesting observations on general Catholic use of language. One of these observations is the masculinisation of Catholic Godtalk. To the casual eye of an outsider the Missal (and many other Church documents) portrays the Trinity as three men. To a certain extent one can make excuses regarding imagery and the limitations of language, but nothing can excuse blatant gender bias in Catholic descriptions of God. At the heart of our theological understanding we are dealing with a reality which is neither male nor female and certainly not human. Even the human nature of Jesus Christ existed for a relatively short period of time compared to the eternal divine nature of the Word. Yet the Church has tended to put the emphasis on the human and only one half of the human race at that, in its descriptions of what it believes and how it prays. This linguistic sexism is an aspect of what Anna Holmes rightly describes as the institutional misogynism pervading the Church. It could be argued that if you say something often enough you will end up believing it. You believe what you repeatedly say. The most common Christian prayer addresses God in the ‘masculine’ immediately side-lining the possibility of a deeper experience of what God is not. The link between linguistic expression and belief needs to be taken a lot more seriously if people want to experience a richer diversity of “God” than the current one portrayed mainly through patriarchal eyes. David Loving-Molloy, Palmerston North
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restoring the third rite of reconciliation
an opportunity postponed? The writer explores the possibility of restoring the third rite of reconciliation as a way of expressing the sacramental gift of God’s mercy Jim Consedine
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was thinking about the opportunity that has been postponed (not quite lost irretrievably, thank God) in relation to the sacrament of reconciliation through the banning of the third rite of general absolution. Let me make it clear. I know from personal experience (many times!) what a wonderful gift individual confession can be when properly prepared for and celebrated. But I think we all know there has been a major shift in people’s acceptance of it as the primary rite to be followed. Worldwide, people are saying they are not interested in current practice. They reject it. Rite Two when well done can be good — but it sometimes seems to be a bit of a hybrid. Why is the official Church so frightened of using the third rite,
general absolution, more frequently? The same mercy is offered by God regardless of the rite used. The various rites are merely tools developed by the Church over the centuries as circumstances have changed and numbers grown. If they work, it is great. When they don’t, we need to adapt. Surely what is required above all else are opportunities to make grace more accessible, to let sin go, repent and move on. Part of the issue today is that while peoples’ understanding of sin and grace has developed, often good catechesis is lacking. This can be remedied at services for general reconciliation. So while grace is found everywhere, sinfulness is also more obvious in relational, environmental and justice areas. Just look at humanity’s responsibility for global warming! Poverty, racism,
The Sacrament of Reconciliation being celebrated at a church in Seattle, USA.
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war, exploitation and environmental destruction are issues of sinfulness for us that generally by-passed our parents’ generation. We now know God’s plan better. The Church must always be most welcoming with sinners who wish to repent. Part of what she can do to facilitate this is to make reconciliation as accessible as possible. The way things are at the moment, it almost feels as if the Church wants to be miserly with the grace available and really make people work for it. Try telling that to Jesus standing talking to the Syrophoenician woman. Or to those who bypassed their temple priests and went straight to Jesus for healing and forgiveness. One incident sticks in my mind. Some years ago, I was presiding at a funeral vigil for an elderly lady. The church was packed with her
with their feet — maybe because it was all too tough, a hoop too far. Many hope that Pope Francis, being a pastoral man, may well revisit the sacrament of reconciliation. He knows its central place in the practice of the Church. If he listens to the voice of the people aided by the Holy Spirit he may see that encouraging general absolution as an option is an excellent way forward, especially relevant in traditionally Christian countries where reconciliation has fallen into virtual disuse. Such a move is long overdue. n
Christ and the Canaanite Woman. Rembrandt van Rijn, about 1650.
offspring, an immediate family of eight plus the grandchildren who numbered about 40. And their partners and their children. And parishioners. It was the gathering of a clan to farewell a beloved member. All had been baptized. Mostly they were what the official Church calls ‘non-practising’. That is, they were not regular Mass goers. The faith practice of many had waned in the face of the complexities of modern secular life. But they loved their grandmother — all of them. They wanted to honour her and pray for her. As I completed the early part of the vigil, I realised what an opportunity was in front of me to deepen their faith and allow them all to really feel they belonged and were accepted as still Catholic. This necessitated my being open to welcoming them to Holy Communion at the requiem the following day. In theory they could all make individual confessions. In practice, I knew they wouldn’t. It was a step too far. Most wouldn’t come to communion. But I could smooth the pathway to a deeper relationship with God and with their grandmother by offering general absolution. This was a tailor-made opportunity to reach out pastorally.
I switched focus and announced that, after an appropriate series of short preparatory prayers and examination of conscience, general absolution would be offered to any or all. It was an obvious step. This was duly completed. The next morning, with tears running down many cheeks, the whole community came forward to receive communion at the Mass. Jesus was meeting them at the Well. All were forgiven, and felt forgiven. They were unburdened in a way that probably many hadn’t been for a long time. Christ had met them in a special way at their grandmother’s funeral. It was her parting gift to her family. Pope Francis has made it a central part of his preaching in the months since he was elected to speak of the mercy of God. One could speculate that he feels he has experienced mercy more than most. Regardless, he speaks regularly of God’s mercy for us. But we need to create the means to make this happen as accessibly as possible to one another. Confession is not a parole board hearing. No putting people through the hoops any more. Those days of confession have gone. The People of God have walked away. They have spoken
Jim Consedine is a priest of the Diocese of Christchurch and editor of the Common Good.
Meadows Where are the wild fields that support life? Manicured lawns weed less gardens clinically botoxing life’s cellular delight. Is it not enough to witness life to watch the bird with her strand of grass going backwards and forwards weaving a future? Truth of wisdom says guard the meadow the glorious meadow the soft meadow of life.
Bridie Southall
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t in the “catholic stuff” faith
why bother? The writer gives us a lively apologia for what she calls “the Catholic stuff ” and what it means in her life, following Augustine’s dictum that our hearts are restless until they find rest in God.
Lyn Smith
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am often asked “Why bother with all that “Catholic stuff ”?” After being involved in Catholic Education for nearly 30 years you would think the question wouldn’t faze me, but it still does. Not because I can’t answer it but because how I answer always depends upon who is asking the question. How I responded to a teenager in inner city Salford in the 1980s, to the stranger next to me on the flight home in the 1990s, to my friends today is very different. Although they are all asking the same question, what they are really wanting to know can be very different. two background stories The teenager, whilst I was on teaching practice (in the equivalent of a decile 1 school in NZ), was in a class where we were sharing our experiences about the unending love and fidelity of God . She just couldn’t equate that concept of God with the family situation in which she found herself. How could all this “Catholic stuff ” about God’s unconditional love be right for a child who went home to a father who beat and abused her? How could God love someone who did that; and where was God’s love for her whilst it was happening to her. The stranger on the flight home was with a group of fellow rugby players on his way to Thailand for a “fun” week and was surprised when I challenged him with the “Catholic stuff” about treating people, especially the young women he was expecting to have ‘fun’ with as people made in the image and likeness of God. The 15 hour flight gave us an opportunity to discuss what human dignity was about, how we treat others, why people felt it was okay to ‘buy’ others and how social justice should have an impact on our everyday lives. I am not sure if what we talked about had any effect upon his behaviour whilst in Thailand but hopefully it
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made him think a little more about the type of ‘fun’ he was going to have and whether it would be acceptable for a Thai man to go to England to have the same ‘fun’ with his daughter. My friends are in the majority of the people who do not have a strong faith connection and find it a little strange that I am often late for gatherings on Saturday nights because I am at Church (I am actively involved in the 5pm Mass at my parish). They also know that when we sit and discuss issues of the day I will have certain responses if the discussion is about abortion or the death penalty, because of the “Catholic stuff ” I believe in.
Lyn Smith
where does believing come from? So why do I bother believing in all of the “Catholic stuff ”? It’s not that I have no views of my own; I am a typical Yorkshire woman forthright and opinionated. I bother because I know it is right. The knowing hasn’t just come from study but mainly from within. I know that because quite simply I have been made in the image and likeness of God and so know that I matter, that God has unconditional love for me and that is what I should witness to those I encounter. It doesn’t mean I don’t question “Catholic stuff ”; I do, as I have always followed Aquinas who says that faith and reason go hand in hand. I do, however, know that I was fortunate to have been born into a family which considered faith an integral part of who we were as human beings.
God is not someone or thing I need to search for because God is with me as my parents and siblings are. I have felt God’s love during my times of jubilation and celebration and the times of sorrow and pain. So for me the “Catholic stuff ”is what I have grown up with and lived for all of my life. I live in a secular country but have always been within the system: Catholic primary and secondary schools, universities with the De La Salles and at ACU, then straight into teaching Religious Education at Catholic secondary schools before taking up my present position in 2004, working with teachers of RE. Apart from part-time jobs in
school and university holidays I have never worked in an environment that isn’t Catholic. For me the “Catholic stuff ” is just part of who I am and the values and beliefs that give my life meaning. finding identity So “why do I bother?” It’s quite simple because without the “Catholic stuff ” my life is not complete. It gives me a sense of belonging to a family that loves me no matter what I do. Being loved by God is not something I think about a great deal, not because I don’t experience it, but simply because I have always experienced it. I have always felt loved by God through the people I encounter and the life I have lived. God is not someone or thing I need to search for because God is with me as my parents and siblings are. I have felt God’s love during my times of jubilation and celebration and the times of sorrow and pain. In each experience God has clothed me with love. I find God’s presence in the work I do as an RE teacher, through the poetry I write, the music I listen to and the people I encounter. The “Catholic stuff ” is for me what quells the restlessness I have when I am asking the question “why bother?” and so the answer is easy, no matter who has asked the question. I would say the “Catholic stuff ” is about being loved by God as a way of life for me. It is as Augustine suggests, that without God I am restless and with God I am fulfilled. In other words, it is because that’s what God has made me to do, to bother about the “Catholic stuff ”! n Lyn Smith is a lecturer with The Catholic Institute of Aotearoa New Zealand (TCI) based in Auckland.
Lightening the Load The first thing we have to do is to notice that we’ve loaded down this camel with so much baggage we’ll never get through the desert alive. Something has to go. Then we can begin to dump the thousand things we’ve brought along until even the camel has to go and we’re walking barefoot on the desert sand. There’s no telling what will happen then. But I’ve heard that someone, walking in this way, has seen a burning bush.
— Francis Dorff, O Praem
hitchhiker’s guide to church history
education as liberation The writer talks of the traditions surrounding St Edmund Ignatius Rice, the founder of the Christian Brothers of Ireland, and details the motivations which drove this visionary man to found a congregation devoted to the education of the poorest of the poor as a way of freeing them from structural oppression. Hayden Kingdon
forbade instruction in the Catholic faith, prohibited Catholics from practising in the professions, and outlawed the educating of Catholic children. As a result, the 1700s saw many Irish Catholics in dismal physical poverty and without access to the one thing that could bring lasting change — education. Rice’s own story was one of both blessing and suffering. Born in 1762 into a wealthy family in County Kilkenny where the Penal Laws were less severe, Edmund was well educated, showing business acumen from a young age. However, after marrying Mary Elliot in 1785, Edmund’s life took a sharp turn when Mary died three years later as the result of an accident, leaving behind a disabled infant. seeing the context of Ireland In the years after Mary’s death Edmund began a conscious spiritual journey as he assessed his life’s direction. Ireland’s impoverished Catholics and their dire need of education was at the forefront of his mind. Edmund was well aware that one of the most effective means of subjugating a people was to deny them access to the development of their intellectual potential. He understood the historical plight of his fellow Irish Catholics and he resolved to serve them by opening learning institutions. In education, Edmund saw a liberating force that could bring longlasting hope. Icon of Edmund Ignatius Rice with Our Lady of Perpetual Help, by Desmond Kyne.
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dmund Rice, founder of the worldwide Roman Catholic teaching order of the Christian Brothers, was born into the oppression of the Penal Laws of 18th Century Ireland. Devised and enforced for the purpose of suppressing Catholicism in Ireland, the Penal Laws 24 Tui Motu InterIslands March 2014
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to
CHURCH HISTORY 1600–1800
Edmund Ignatius Rice, 1762-1844
After an inspirational chance encounter with a friar, Edmund began to entertain the idea of the religious life as a vehicle through which to serve God and the poor through the mission of education. The genesis of what would later become the first religious order for men established in Ireland began to take shape as Edmund and a few early followers opened a night school for street kids in Waterford in 1802. This was soon followed by a day school — “Mt Sion” — in 1803. Edmund’s own education and business skills proved vital during those years, as he set about founding a religious order, establishing schools, drawing up a system of education, and opening businesses such as a bakery and tailor shop for the purpose of feeding and clothing underprivileged students. Meanwhile, the school roll at Mt Sion grew quickly; in 1809, just six years after the school was opened, there were 700 pupils. Simultaneously, Edmund began the process of instituting a new religious congregation and training young novices. In 1808 Edmund and seven others took their first vows, and in 1821 the Christian Brothers were formally established
when 19 brothers accepted Edmund as their first Superior General. By 1825 the Christian Brothers boasted 30 brothers working in 12 different locations in Ireland, educating around 5,500 students. the implications of the legacy Today the legacy of Edmund Rice’s passion for education is abundant. From their early years in Ireland, the Christian Brothers travelled to establish schools in places such as England, Australia, India, South Africa, USA, Canada, Argentina, the Cook Islands, Papua New Guinea and New Zealand.
Edmund Rice was motivated by education as a liberating force that provides the tools through which human culture might progress materially, scientifically, and even morally. Education also provides the vehicle through which individuals discover the contribution they can make to the world around them, nurturing what theologian Paul Tillich called “self-actualisation”. Edmund himself would have struggled to achieve such a lasting legacy without the benefits of his own education and the intellectual and leadership skills it engendered. Edmund knew that the enterprise of education is far from simple and that the benefits are not always visible. Despite personal set-backs, such as when his new congregation was challenged with extinction in 1829 due to a change in Irish law, Edmund held firm to his faith in Christ and to his mission to bring liberation through education. “Have courage,” he was known to admonish his Brothers, “the good seed will grow”. n Hayden Kingdon is Assistant Headmaster, Director of Special Character, at St Peter’s College in Auckland. This year St Peter’s celebrates its 75th year as a Catholic school in the Edmund Rice tradition.
The Easter Story by Joy Cowley
$19.99 +$4.50 p/pkg
With beautiful original colour illustrations by Donald Morrison complementing Joy Cowley’s text on the story of Easter and what it means for us. The stress is on love and healing, on growing in prayer through talking to Jesus, leading the reader to gratitude for “the wonderful Easter Story”. Published by Pleroma Press
Freephone 0508 988 988 order@pleroma.org.nz 38 Higginson Street, Otane Central Hawke’s Bay
www.christiansupplies.co.nz
25 Tui Motu InterIslands March 2014
scripture
living water from an overflowing well John 4:4-42 Third Sunday of Lent, 23 March Kathleen Rushton
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reation and revelation are linked inextricably for the universe is a treasure trove of symbols revealing God. In the symbol of living water, Jesus invites us into the mystery of creation to enter into the mystery of the Word who became flesh, the flesh of all living creatures. He explained, “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly” (10:10). Living water is universal. It is necessary for all forms of life and for the search for life. Its multiple meanings come from the particular contexts in which people live. Two of these influence my pondering. The first is cosmic. The story of water began 13.7 billion years ago with hydrogen emerging in the first moments after the Big Bang. Millions of years later, oxygen emerged. When hydrogen and oxygen met finally, water came enabling new possibilities of creativity. Water assisted the forming of Earth, cooled and enveloped Earth with a fluid blanket which permitted creativity to flourish. As vapour, water permeates the atmosphere. As liquid, water forms the clouds of the atmosphere, falls as rain and covers most of Earth’s surface with oceans. In its solid state, frozen water falls as sleet and snow, covers mountains and forms the polar caps. The human person, like other mammals, is over 70 percent water. Vital systems function because of water. Water maintains interconnections within each living cell and, by the intercellular fluids, between the cells of a whole organism. Water keeps essential ingredients in suspension until needed by the cell. Water’s capacity to dissolve diffuses waste from the cell. The same life force maintained by water is replicated in very living being as Linda Gibler summarises, “Creation is water-drenched. All living beings on Earth are born of water — in oceans or ponds, within eggs, seeds or wombs.” The second is my context of living in Canterbury which has, or had, exceptionally pure water flowing from the mountains in interconnected spaces across the plains and out to sea. Some water surfaces as springs and rivulets which flow into streams and rivers. The rest remains buried as groundwater which moves towards the sea taking a
26 Tui Motu InterIslands March 2014
Jesus and the Woman of Samaria. First Half of Third Century. Catacomb of St. Callistus, Rome
century or more and is the habitat of 500 different species of minute, invertebrate animals which filter the groundwater. As irrigation expands so does the pressure on the rivers and groundwater aquifers. Living water is contested. The government sacked the members of the elected Environment Canterbury (ECAN); then installed and extended the term of unelected commissioners. Here, and elsewhere, conflict results over water. background of conflict Samaria has been such a region of conflict. The ancient town of Sychar “near the plot of ground that Jacob had given to his son Joseph” (4:5) was called Shechem. This name comes from the Hebrew, “I now give to you one portion (shekim) more than your brothers” (Gen 48:22). Some traditions tell of Jacob’s peaceful coming to Shechem. Others tell
releasing living water The encounter between this Jew and this Samaritan released water for the thirsty. Restrictions imposed on the water are released. The water is freed from economic and legal ownership restrictions. In response to Jesus’ presence and act of requesting, Photina responds. When thirst is concerned proprietary rights and separation must give way. Photina transcends the privatisation of water. Excavations of what may be Jacob’s well show it was very deep so as to reach a hidden spring. Jewish legends tell of Jacob’s well flowing to offer life to all. One tells of its water overflowing when Jacob removed its stone covering. According to another, so much water was flowing from this well that it flowed into the wilderness thus keeping the people and their animals alive in their wandering. Early Christians must have known of
these traditions for in the scene from the Roman Catacomb of St. Callistus, Photina is bucketing water from an overflowing well and standing in its flowing waters. Reading from the perspective of thirst, Jesus the fountain/spring of “living water” cries out just before his death, “I thirst” (19:28). Previously, his meeting with Photina was “at the sixth hour” (usually translated as “noon”) and seems to be linked with the time of his crucifixion at “the sixth hour” (4:6; 19:14). This link is supported by Jesus speaking of “the hour” (4:23), an image for his death at which he “handed over the Spirit”, and later from his side flowed birthing blood and water. From Christ’s side, the Church is born (19:30, 34). Living water-gift (4:10), wonder and necessity nurturing all interconnected life yet privatised, bottled and endangered. Jesus’ cry “I thirst” echoes through time. His sisters and brothers cry out “I thirst.” Standing in flowing waters from an overflowing well, which encounter with Jesus frees and releases for all, what does this story mean for disciples today? n Kathleen Rushton is a Sister of Mercy working in adult education in the Diocese of Christchurch.
Credit: Adrian Heke
of livestock, property and trade leading to breakdowns in the relationships between his clan and the clan from whom he purchased the land. This region is dotted with natural aquifers deep under the Earth, which surfaced in springs and met the needs of nomads. Jacob may have dug a well or bought a field containing a well or spring. At some stage he asserted his rights over this water source in a way which excluded others; in other words, what is practised in today’s privatisation of water. A significant subtlety highlights two understandings of water. When the woman, whom I shall call Photina (as she is known in the Eastern Church), describes the well (phrear), the word means ‘still water’ (John 11-12). This had been separated from its source by being collected and stored in a cistern or pool. “Living water” was wild water from a river or spring. “Spring” (pēgē) is used twice (v 6) to refer to Jacob’s well, once when Jesus was sitting by this well, and again, when he spoke of “living water” (v 14). To Jesus’ request for a drink, Photina replies: “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” Behind her words are centuries of hostile separation between their peoples. The spring-fed well of their common ancestor was to provide ‘living water’ for all. Yet, over centuries land made valuable because of this water was held in private ownership by succeeding generations. Interpreters of this story get caught up with speculation about Photina’s husbands and overlook totally her plight as a poor woman attending to the task of carrying water over a great distance for the benefit of others. In her female role of water carrier, she is caught in a system which demands hard physical work. This is the lot of poor women today.
Open up a hOrizOn Of hOpe Pope Francis: Inaugural homily, 2013
Make your donations online at www.caritas.org.nz An appeal on behalf of the New Zealand Catholic Bishops Conference.
27 Tui Motu InterIslands March 2014
book reviews
to sing the gospel
to hear the fam
A Place at the Table
Dramatic Encounters in the Bible
By Shirley Erena Murray
By M E Andrew Publisher: Hope Publishing Co, no date, US14.95
Publisher: AFT Theology, Adelaide, 2013 Reviewer: Damian Wynn-Williams
Reviewers: Cecily Sheehy OP and Gavin Rennie
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his collection of hymns gives voice to many of the concerns which have an impact on our lives as citizens of this country and as members of the Church. The hymns explore many aspects of our lives as they are, but also delve back into history.There are hymns for the seasons: Because of the baby, Christmas; At the door of the year, New Year — very suitable for schools; Come in our dark time, times of loss and trouble; For everyone born — a place at the table, a hymn for inclusion; Go between God, a plea for accepting other cultures, their faiths and traditions; God so loves the world, calling us to gratitude care and awareness. The words here are Shirley Murray’s but the composers are a rich variety, some familiar and some new. There are also some wonderful new words set to familiar tunes: What have we failed to do to Darwall’s 148th; and Thank God for Bursting Life to Vruechten. God Bless the Day set to the traditional cowboy ballad Streets of Laredo would be a wonderful start to a school day, with words that are strong, accessible to children whilst giving voice to what it means to lead the Christian life in a school setting: Let there be ending to hurt and to heartache Channels of grace where forgiveness may flow Surges of joy in our everyday living Sunlight for seeds of new purpose to grow. 28 Tui Motu InterIslands March 2014
Now there is a good take-home message! Everything that is here is probably not easily singable by congregations especially where there is no choir or singing group to lead. But having said that, many will be sung by ordinary congregations. Where there is strong musical leadership there are also rich opportunities in this collection for them to lead and to shine. Come in our Dark time may be one of these. Forgive, Forgive us, Holy God would be lovely sung as a prayer for forgiveness at the beginning of a Eucharist. There are challenges here to live the demands which Jesus puts on his followers. There are challenges, too, to reconceptualise God. Many of the hymns we love with their ancient words and glorious music contain messages of an overbearing judgmental God who reigns in glory and perfection way beyond our reach and our knowing. Here we have a book of hymns that simply and nonthreateningly invites us to sing the gospel message of Christ. May it become well known and widely used. n
n this slim volume Maurice Andrew, retired professor of OT and Hebrew at the University of Otago and former Principal of Knox College in Dunedin, examines several passages in the Bible which depict dramatic encounters between two or more participants. He first discusses the dramatic elements in the Book of Amos as a whole. The other passages are much briefer, some a chapter or two of the biblical text, others just a few verses. Altogether there are eight texts from the Old Testament and seven from the Gospels. Each exemplifies various dramatic elements such as direct address, dialogue, action, and sudden or unexpected reaction. Their effect is to engage the hearers or readers in such a way that they themselves are caught up or involved in the encounters described. Dramatic Encounters in the Bible reflects Andrew’s many years of scholarly engagement both with the Scriptures and with contemporary issues arising from NZ’s colonial history, such as the need for dialogue between different ethnic groups, cultures and religions. Frequently he suggests how these texts have provocative implications. For example he observes that the exhortation in Psalm 96 that all creation give praise to God completely challenges any assumption of superiority by one group or people over another. Again, noting that the term used of Sarai’s harsh treatment of her Egyptian maid (Gen 16) is the same used of the Egyptians’ treatment of the Israelites (Ex 1), Andrew remarks, “that the oppressed can themselves be oppressors: in (post) colonial societies like New Zealand and the United States, immigrants who were oppressed in their country of origin can oppress the indigenous people of their adopted land.” Andrew reminds us that originally many biblical narratives would have been heard
film review
miliar anew
the limits of forgiveness The Railway Man Director: Jonathan Teplitzky Reviewer: Paul Sorrell
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being read aloud. The dramatic effects of these narratives would have been accentuated in the telling. (We might think of the dramatic potential when several voices recite John’s Passion Narrative on Good Friday). In this regard, lectors who read the Scriptures aloud in our liturgies today could benefit from this book. Andrew’s primary attention however is with the written text and he does not speculate on how the oral delivery of these narratives might have left them ‘open ended’, with different nuances given by different performers. For instance he interprets the leave-taking of Jacob and Esau (Gen 33) positively, in that Jacob’s failure to follow his brother to Seir as he said he would discretely avoided further conflict. But in terms of the story this could also be seen as yet another instance of Jacob’s deviousness! Again, in the story of the binding of Isaac (Gen 22) Andrew assumes that Isaac returned with his father after his ordeal on the altar. But the text merely states that “Abraham returned to his servants and they set off together to Beersheba.” Might the fact that Isaac is not mentioned have allowed a raconteur to suggest an estrangement between father and son? The strength of this book is its focus on the dramatic features of the written text. It is an invitation to hear these familiar encounters afresh. n
ased on the bestselling book by Eric Lomax, this film traverses the experiences of one man from being a prisoner of the Japanese during the Second World War to his return and marriage in the UK and the anguished outworking of the unfinished business he had left behind him in the jungles of South-East Asia. My first reaction to seeing Colin Firth and Nicole Kidman cast in the leading roles was that they would lend an inappropriate gloss to a film dealing with such horrific subject matter. But as the story progressed, it seemed that the presence of two big stars acted to place a veil, however slight, between us and the raw horror unfolding onscreen. The love story woven around the main plot serves a similar function. Eric and Patti meet and fall in love on a train journey into Scotland, and it is the motif of trains and journeying that in many ways holds the film together. Eric is fascinated — even obsessed — with railways and locomotives and everything about them, from track gauges to timetables. Following their marriage, Patti comes to realise that the shy, kind man she has committed her life to is harbouring a deeply troubling secret.
She seeks out one of his companions, Finlay, captured with Eric after the fall of Singapore, and finds out something of their terrible experiences as prisoners of the Japanese. She learns of their work as slave labourers on the infamous Thai– Burma railroad and the brutal beatings and torture endured by Eric for making a radio set and a map of the railway. Much later, in the 1980s, Eric learns that his principal tormentor, Nagase, then a young translator from the Kempeitai — the Japanese military’s equivalent of the Gestapo — is still alive and working in the Burmese prison camp which has been turned into a museum devoted to the reconciliation of former enemies. Stung at Nagase’s apparent cowardice and hypocrisy, and challenged by Finlay, Eric returns to the scene of his suffering where the final acts of the drama unfold. While the power and truth underlying The Railway Man are undeniable, I do have some reservations. Relying on a pair of international stars to carry the story has some advantages, but it has resulted in a certain lack of subtlety. Eric’s change of heart towards his erstwhile torturer is mediated through events — suicides, journeys, meetings, confrontations — rather than the more subtle (and murkier) passages of the heart. The details of their meetings have also been changed for dramatic effect. Strongly recommended, nonetheless, but not for the faint of heart. n
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comment
Crosscurrents Jim Elliston new focus In January Pope Francis’ mate Rabbi Abraham Skorka of Buenos Aires led a delegation of Jewish leaders from Argentina. The pope treated the group to a kosher lunch at his residence in the Casa Santa Marta. That evening Skorka delivered a public lecture on Jewish/Catholic relations. He was accompanied by Swiss Cardinal Kurt Koch, who heads the Vatican office that deals with ecumenism and relations with Jews. Skorka and Koch also took part in a brief press conference afterward. During Benedict’s papacy there was an emphasis on ‘intercultural’ dialogue, rather than on theological issues. The former (discerning areas of agreement on social, political, cultural and moral values) seemed more productive than looking at theological differences. Both Skorka and Koch said, however, that they believe the future of Catholic/Jewish relations lies precisely in the theological arena. “We need a theological explanation of what a Jew is to a Catholic, and what a Catholic is to a Jew,” Skorka said. Koch agreed, “The next step has to be a deepening of our theology; we need a Christian theology of Judaism and a Jewish theology of Christianity. I’m convinced Pope Francis wants to go in that direction.” Rabbi Skorka explained that Argentina has a fairly large Jewish community of roughly 250,000. He described how the Argentinean economic crisis of the late 1990s led to widespread unemployment, riots and the collapse of the government, leaving half the country’s population and 70 percent of its children in poverty. “This created a situation in which religious institutions were called upon to work together in a very deep way,” he said. “There was lots of coordinated work to help people in dire need.” 30 Tui Motu InterIslands March 2014
One practical result was that the focus in Latin America is more on the present, unlike in most other places where Jewish/Catholic exchanges often look to the past — the history of anti-Semitism, the Holocaust and so on. “Something interesting happened in the middle of the economic meltdown”, Skorka said. “Society started to ask who can we really trust, and religious institutions came to the fore.” He added that the situation induced religious leaders to develop “a tremendously pragmatic” form of dialogue. Afterward, Skorka said, German Cardinal Walter Kasper, who previously held Koch’s job, said it had been “the first meeting not to focus on past issues but rather on how to join forces to face the dramatic needs of the present and future.” us political re-awakening? Political commentator E J Dionne Jr claims that the re-emergence of a Democratic left will be one of the major stories of 2014, and that this will be good news for the political centre. He writes that the existence of an active, uncompromising political right unbalanced by a comparably influential left has resulted in the entire political debate being dragged more and more to the right, pushing the centre that way too. He says that because a long list of moderate programmes were blocked by the extremist bloc within the Republican party, there is a slowly building backlash against the skewed nature of US politics and a new militancy on the Democratic left. More generally, the Democratic left is animated by the battle against growing inequality and declining social mobility. “The system is rigged for powerful interests and against working families …To create a real centre, you need a real left.”
a new cardinal John XXIII became Pope in October 1958. At the end of November he visited the international college where many NZ candidates for the priesthood studied last century. Coincidentally, the Shah of Persia (Iran) was in Rome on a state visit. Because students came from over 40 countries it often happened that politicians, minor royalty or other important persons would visit. On occasions when Mass was part of the programme some students were put in charge of ensuring invited guests were appropriately seated, and gatecrashers (usually local clerics) were sent on their way. The head prefect, Aldo, a Melbourne priest, was first line of defence at the main entrance. Pope John and entourage duly arrived, entered the chapel and Mass began. Shortly after, a car pulled up disgorging a small undistinguished cleric who tried to bypass Aldo, who was six feet tall. No way! “But I’m the Pope’s private secretary,” said the little man. “Pleased to meet you,” said Aldo. “I’m the Shah of Persia!” After a few minutes argument a Swiss Guard came over to Aldo and confirmed that this was indeed Monsignor Loris Capovilla, Pope John’s personal secretary. I watched a clip from an Italian TV interview with Archbishop Capovilla a few months ago. Speaking with a strong voice, this lively, articulate man said how Pope Francis reminded him of John. He also said how John was recommended to get someone else to be his secretary because Capovilla’s health was so poor the job would probably kill him. He turns 99 next October; he was made a Cardinal on February 22nd. n
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the heroes in our midst
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he death of Nelson Mandela can serve to remind us of the heroes in Aotearoa who acted in solidarity with the political struggle in South Africa. In the early 1970s the shocking South African anti-apartheid documentary Last Grave at Dimbaza emotionally captured and helped mobilize the anti-apartheid movement in New Zealand. The National Council of Churches had obtained a 16mm copy in 1975. CORSO in Christchurch, as part of its development education programme, had four showings a day targeting politicians, journalists, city councillors, church and union leaders. This was the first major filmed exposé of the evil of apartheid. The film was secretly developed and smuggled out of South Africa by its producer, South African exile Nana Mahono. This powerful documentary contrasted the lives of the majority of starving black Africans with the luxurious lifestyles of a minority of white South Africans. It showed how husbands were forced to live in single-sex labour camps, solely to provide cheap labour for the cities, thousands of miles from their wives and children. The film noted the If youMinister’s know a friend who that might“black Justice opinion enjoy reading — and maybe workers must not be burdened with subscribing to Tui Motu — fill in superfluous appendages likeus women their details and send it to at: and children.” Freepost 97407 One poignant story in the film P O Box 6404 captured the tyranny. A black nanny Dunedin North wasDUNEDIN shown feeding 9059 a white employer’s child even though hera free ownback son died – and we will send them copy of malnutrition and her newborn twins were sent off to relatives 300 Name . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . miles away to be cared for because Address . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . they were not allowed to live with the ........................................ mother in the servants’ quarters on . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .property. ........................ the employer’s Many New Zealanders have courageous stories of their involvement in the anti-apartheid anti-tour
Robert Consedine struggle in New Zealand — particularly 1981. Ordinary people, with a passion for justice, found that they could do extraordinary things. The day before the start of the tour Mary Baker, who had seen the Dimbaza documentary, was sitting in the Air New Zealand departure lounge in Los Angeles and she realized that the Springboks were on her flight back to New Zealand. With her heart in her mouth she promptly decided to tell these big rugby players individually that they were not welcome in New Zealand. The Air New Zealand staff told her to desist or she would be off-loaded. She finally decided that the smartest approach was to wait until the flight was closer to Auckland and she couldn’t be offloaded, and then act. During the flight she carefully wrote the word “SHAME” in big letters on an aircraft sick bag. After waiting until the breakfast trays were down, for her own safety, this mother of eight then paraded up and down the aisle — at 43,000 feet — holding the placard in the air. The only abuse came from the New Zealand passengers. The stewards finally told her to
sit down. They arrived in Auckland to the sound of massive protests. Mary later reflected that the Springbok rugby players appeared to have no idea what was ahead of them in New Zealand. New Zealand was polarized. Pauline O’Regan was threatened with the loss of her regular Morning Comment slot on Radio New Zealand for telling the above story. Bishop Tutu, Wynand Claassen — the Springbok captain — and Nelson Mandela all subsequently repeated on numerous occasions that New Zealand’s opposition to the Springbok Tour was the single biggest external factor in bringing apartheid to its knees. The irony is that had the tour not proceeded, the impact on apartheid may have been negligible. n Robert Consedine www.waitangi.co.nz “What counts in life is not the mere fact that we have lived. It is what difference we have made to the lives of others that will determine the significance of the life we lead.”
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31 Tui Motu InterIslands March 2014
a mother’s journal
by Kaaren Mathias
“
T
here is Shanti who’s quite big, and Shar who is my sister too, and my brother who plays with me sometimes ... There is me Jalori too and my Dad who plays with me lots and my Mum who reads me stories too and then there’s me Jalori to ...” My five year old’s Pooh-bear-like bedtime ditty is part of her selfsettling routine. It’s an “I-am-justgetting-the-world-in-order” sort of a song, and tonight it seems to me the most beautiful ritual of this evening. Last week walking with friends on one of our tracks down to a cliff lookout, we passed a group of women cutting grass high above us on the steep hill. One woman’s strong voice sang out a song that echoed around the rocks and bluffs. I couldn’t catch the words but my whole afternoon felt nuanced with joy for this song
32 Tui Motu InterIslands March 2014
weaving through the trees and across the steep hill. As I was walking home along a narrow path this evening at dusk, after dropping my two teenagers around to a friend’s place, the lonely azan, calling the faithful to prayer broke out across the glowing evening — nudging my spirit to be mindful and attentive. Making dinner with Dave Dobbyn, James Blunt, old fados*, Indigo Girls or Benjamin Britten ringing out from the speaker on top of the fridge turns a dreary session with onions and beans into sparkling jiving or reflection — rarely can I convince my embarrassed children to swing along with me. The two years I sang in the Holy Trinity Cathedral choir in Auckland as a student, carved into my soul a rhythm of prayers, services, worship, beauty and singing singing singing. Now, two decades and perhaps a thousand kilometres from a cathedral choir, those psalms and magnificats still play in my head — companions for the way. Singing and music somehow pull the protective layers off my heart better than most things, particularly when I engage actively — by moving, singing along, playing the piano or going to live performances. They make me lift my thoughts, give me bounce, open up to moving of the Holy One.
Jalori with her brother Rohan ‘who plays with me sometimes . . .’
Music is around me every day. It is the sounds of rain and wind. It is the squeaky scales on a daughter’s viola. It is songs, recorded and live, that I hear nearly every day. Stop. Listen. n *Portuguese origin songs of melancholy and longing Kaaren Mathias lives with her husband Jeph and four children in North India, where she works in community health and development. Her email address is: kaarenmathias@gmail.com