Count your graces, name them!

« If you do not hope, you will not find what is beyond your hope »

                       Clement of Alexander

The year 2008 had gone and the rest is history. A living history, for the events that welcomed it are still fresh in the minds of many especially for us, Kenyans, whose tears both ushered and concluded the year; tears of sorry and of joy. People, ‘an unexamined life is not worth living’. Hence responding to this Socratic call, it is a time for evaluation of that time spent on earth and formulation of resolutions for the New Year.

Recollection of that year is met by different feelings. All of us are counting both the losses and the gains. To some, it was a moment of joy, while others a tragedy that registered sorrow in their earthly journey. Sorrows that even Obama’s win as the first black in the American’s presidential circle, will never erase.

I too had the taste of the year. Some of the events increased my adrenaline level, filled me with awe, left me tongue-tied and with water-welling eyes. While others saw me vibrating in ecstasy and having hopeful visions!

I remember that at some point, our seminary at Langata had to open a week late, not because of the mismanagement rather due to societal misunderstanding that rocked the country by then. Nonetheless, it was a wonderful year set apart by the Lord, and that does not eliminate the possibility of yet another memorable year, my hope. Let’s leave that at the mercy of God, the giver of years.

As a young boy in my home town, I grew up with the church circles having special cozy image of a church shepherd, a bishop. The one who confirmed me into the Catholic faith imprinted in me this illusory figure of a bishop, heavy and confidently rooted in the soil, well-fed man, cathedral-sized belly, bald headed so that the bishop’s cap may fit his head, no beards at all, wears thick-lenssed glasses, and always in a roman-collar shirt with a big metallic crucifix hanging on his neck!

In his homily, my ‘bishop’ has to stammer a bit and prolong the pronunciations and intonations not the usual way and changes the positions of stresses in the vowel sounds. He has to wear gloves during the sacramental celebration, a phenomenon that earned him his trade mark and worn my humble admiration by then.

All these were signs that he is full of graces, hence his honorable ecclesiastical title ‘His Grace, the Archbishop’, as I fathomed by then.

It was until the day I left my home town region that this image landed a blow! A scandal to my ‘bishop’!

For me by then, all bishops were to be shaped, to behave, to talk and to dress in that manner. Little had I known that I would come across a slander, not bald, full-blown bearded bishop, with no spectacles and one who even enjoys riding motorbike and celebrate masses in outstations alone with no concelebrant! One who even puts on open shoes that let his toes peep out!

The distortion process wasn’t pleasing at all. It was though very helpful in opening up and being objective to other realities in the church and the society at large.

The year 2008 was a landmark period, for I not only met and shook hands, at different occasions, with five bishops but also built an objective ‘bishop’! Sounds a big joke, no? But you will agree with me that without an appointment with the owner of bishopric, it will be a miracle to meet and greet one due to their nature of apostolate. And kissing five bishop’s rings in less than just a year sparks the mighty flame of joyful graces. In fact other lucky colleagues and I almost met a Pope!

It was this day that we had an impromptu visit by four bishops. They had come for a meeting at Bethany House and were keeping abreast with this section of the Allamano Complex (about Allamano Complex is a topic of another day). One of them had two-fold office, as an Archbishop and an Apostolic Nuntio to Kenya. He stands for the Pope in Kenya. He brought the Papacy in our Novitiate at that time. Others included bishop Kihara, Pante and one whom I forgot his name just few minutes after introduction due to sparks of joy that radiated from my silently jubilating inner boy. But very well recalls his office, he is in charge of the Catholic Action in Rome.

Then came the silver jubilee of the sisters of Mary Immaculate at Kagio. Here, I shared a dressing room which also acted as a sacristy with His Eminence John Cardinal Njue. I didn’t go to pry about. I had ecclesial duty to execute, to serve at the altar as an altar boy. The first mass I ever served celebrated by His Eminence, the Cardinal, one who is in charge of the Church in Kenya. All these translated to joyful graces God had in store for me, an inspiration in life.

As we make new objectives for the year 2009, we should be watchful to interpret the signs of the time. Grief will come and thrill the other side of the coin but stand firm this year. Therefore, set time also to look back from where you have come, for it will not only give you little impetus to the rest of your earthly life, but also help you be objective in the way you see reality.

Have a blessed and peaceful year, will you?

 

(this article was published in the Seed Magazine some time ago)

Count your graces, name them!

« If you do not hope, you will not find what is beyond your hope »

                       Clement of Alexander

The year 2008 had gone and the rest is history. A living history, for the events that welcomed it are still fresh in the minds of many especially for us, Kenyans, whose tears both ushered and concluded the year; tears of sorry and of joy. People, ‘an unexamined life is not worth living’. Hence responding to this Socratic call, it is a time for evaluation of that time spent on earth and formulation of resolutions for the New Year.

Recollection of that year is met by different feelings. All of us are counting both the losses and the gains. To some, it was a moment of joy, while others a tragedy that registered sorrow in their earthly journey. Sorrows that even Obama’s win as the first black in the American’s presidential circle, will never erase.

I too had the taste of the year. Some of the events increased my adrenaline level, filled me with awe, left me tongue-tied and with water-welling eyes. While others saw me vibrating in ecstasy and having hopeful visions!

I remember that at some point, our seminary at Langata had to open a week late, not because of the mismanagement rather due to societal misunderstanding that rocked the country by then. Nonetheless, it was a wonderful year set apart by the Lord, and that does not eliminate the possibility of yet another memorable year, my hope. Let’s leave that at the mercy of God, the giver of years.

As a young boy in my home town, I grew up with the church circles having special cozy image of a church shepherd, a bishop. The one who confirmed me into the Catholic faith imprinted in me this illusory figure of a bishop, heavy and confidently rooted in the soil, well-fed man, cathedral-sized belly, bald headed so that the bishop’s cap may fit his head, no beards at all, wears thick-lenssed glasses, and always in a roman-collar shirt with a big metallic crucifix hanging on his neck!

In his homily, my ‘bishop’ has to stammer a bit and prolong the pronunciations and intonations not the usual way and changes the positions of stresses in the vowel sounds. He has to wear gloves during the sacramental celebration, a phenomenon that earned him his trade mark and worn my humble admiration by then.

All these were signs that he is full of graces, hence his honorable ecclesiastical title ‘His Grace, the Archbishop’, as I fathomed by then.

It was until the day I left my home town region that this image landed a blow! A scandal to my ‘bishop’!

For me by then, all bishops were to be shaped, to behave, to talk and to dress in that manner. Little had I known that I would come across a slander, not bald, full-blown bearded bishop, with no spectacles and one who even enjoys riding motorbike and celebrate masses in outstations alone with no concelebrant! One who even puts on open shoes that let his toes peep out!

The distortion process wasn’t pleasing at all. It was though very helpful in opening up and being objective to other realities in the church and the society at large.

The year 2008 was a landmark period, for I not only met and shook hands, at different occasions, with five bishops but also built an objective ‘bishop’! Sounds a big joke, no? But you will agree with me that without an appointment with the owner of bishopric, it will be a miracle to meet and greet one due to their nature of apostolate. And kissing five bishop’s rings in less than just a year sparks the mighty flame of joyful graces. In fact other lucky colleagues and I almost met a Pope!

It was this day that we had an impromptu visit by four bishops. They had come for a meeting at Bethany House and were keeping abreast with this section of the Allamano Complex (about Allamano Complex is a topic of another day). One of them had two-fold office, as an Archbishop and an Apostolic Nuntio to Kenya. He stands for the Pope in Kenya. He brought the Papacy in our Novitiate at that time. Others included bishop Kihara, Pante and one whom I forgot his name just few minutes after introduction due to sparks of joy that radiated from my silently jubilating inner boy. But very well recalls his office, he is in charge of the Catholic Action in Rome.

Then came the silver jubilee of the sisters of Mary Immaculate at Kagio. Here, I shared a dressing room which also acted as a sacristy with His Eminence John Cardinal Njue. I didn’t go to pry about. I had ecclesial duty to execute, to serve at the altar as an altar boy. The first mass I ever served celebrated by His Eminence, the Cardinal, one who is in charge of the Church in Kenya. All these translated to joyful graces God had in store for me, an inspiration in life.

As we make new objectives for the year 2009, we should be watchful to interpret the signs of the time. Grief will come and thrill the other side of the coin but stand firm this year. Therefore, set time also to look back from where you have come, for it will not only give you little impetus to the rest of your earthly life, but also help you be objective in the way you see reality.

Have a blessed and peaceful year, will you?

 

(this article was published in the Seed Magazine some time ago)

The humble beginning…

Whenever I heard of the term “novitiate” many ideas and questions crossed my mind. Finally I would ask myself when my time would come to dwell in the vineyard of the Lord as a novice. Well, it has finally dawned, thanks to God who wants me to do His will in this Sagana community guided by my formators and the people of good will.

The journey to Sagana is a long story that for now is obiter dictum, neither here nor there. My joy is that I arrived safely amidst the vicissitudes that adorned my voyage to tread the paths where many, both Consolata missionaries and good Christians had left their footprints.

Together with 12 others, our year of Novitiate officially began with simple celebration of the word during vespers presided over by the Regional Superior, Fr. Franco Celana on 17th July, 2008 concelebrated by Fr. Albert Kathare our novice master.

The exhortation from the superior to the 13 novices was in the spirit of our founder Bl. Joseph Allamano who always imbued the spirit of Consolata family in the novices during his time at the Mother House. He reminded us, using the words of the founder that the novitiate is the garden of every congregation and for us a foundation of sanctity, so that we may respond to Allamano’s wish and spirit, ‘first saints then missionaries’. He further pointed on humility in acquisition of virtues and deepening of the evangelical counsels.

He then gave us two life styles: contemplation of the Word of God and active pastoral care (evangelization of the glory of God). In the end, we were all happy to join the Consolata Missionary family as the novices, 2008-2009.

Back in the dailies were the challenges any other person meet in the due course of adopting any change, even change that we believe in. The major setback that struck me was the vocational shock let alone the cultural shock. For the latter I had developed a shock absorber during my holidays.

In any vocational journey, there are stages to live in order to grow in maturity and be filled with more zeal towards the desired way of life. For me it is an imperative step from Postulancy, which indeed prepared me, to the novitiate where my blood now has to test Consolata spirit positive.

At this point, the Consolata Seminary life has to be a fundamental stepping stone to the novitiate.

Three days down the line, as we were enjoying our honeymoon into the novitiate lifestyle and nursing our vocational shocks amidst various other challenges, the Consolata family’s eyes were set on Mathari, a small town in Nyeri district, the locus of the new second temporary novitiate in Kenya-Uganda region. On Tuesday 22nd July, we joined the rest of the family in the simple opening ceremony of the Mathari novitiate, our ‘twin brother’.

Priests; where they come from.

All people have a vocation. This is no doubt. As Christians, we have a divine call to particular purpose. One whole year was dedicated to celebrate priesthood, one among the vocations. It was from June 2009 to June 2010. It was a special moment for reflections, witnesses and prayers for, of and with the priests. But the question remains, where do priests come from?

I tried to think about this a year down the line…

Priests don’t drop from heaven! Neither are they imported from outside the earth, say Jupiter. They are born from a family, from a community, from a society. They are bread and educated like any other member of the human race. They also cry, laugh, play and morn like any other person. They are formed from and within a society.

From the family, a young man with the desire for priesthood expresses this desire concretely by communicating with the parents, his parish priest and the vocations director of his choice of congregation or of his diocese. Later, he is admitted to the seminary for authentic training into the life of priesthood.

Any priest, an ordained seminarian, will second me that one of the most memorable times of their earthly life was the years spent in formation that is in the seminary.
From superstition to purification

The process of priestly formation is lengthy. It is many years of discernment and a gradual growth into definitive decision for a life-long commitment. A decision that might have had its origins superficially based on physical attractions is purified with time.

I know of a priest who was attracted to the seminary simply because he wanted to taste some fried githeri (famous Kenyan food, mixture of maize and beans). This is the principle of gradualism, that a candidate, within this period, shakes off the superstitious motives and exhibits and lives the values and qualities of priesthood in the seminary.

The Wikipedia defines seminary as, ‘an institution of higher education for educating students (sometimes called seminarians) in theology, generally to prepare them for ordinations as clergy or for other ministry.’ Well, a seminary is a place, an environment where one, a seminarian, is natured for priesthood. He lives under the guidance of a formator, usually a clergy, and is nourished both spiritually and intellectually. In fact, he lives the principle of gradualism. The candidate makes a pilgrimage to the discovery of God and self.

Today the Church has faced real and shocking abuses on her novelty, priesthood. For a seminarian, like me, it’s a big blow on the face. “How can you join a bunch of sinners?” a recent question was raised. In this period, the priestly values seemed to have been watered down in some parts of the world. An era whereby the priesthood has been severely shaken almost to the rubbles, thanks for its pillars that still holds it strong. This is a moment for real discernment and introspection into the destiny of the seminarians.

One may wonder and question what goes on in the seminary. Why all those years, eight, ten or fifteen, just to prepare one to say Mass? Do the many years transform these men into angelic creatures? Just a group of men living together! Impossible! Others think it is only the Bible that is studied inside there, after all what else do priest do apart from preaching the Good News? This is partially true. People, the lion’s share is deep reflections, self analysis and prayers combined with educational training.

The four pillars of priesthood
In the seminary, four pillars of priesthood are very much emphasized. These are: personal or human element (authentic self awareness and relationship with others having celibacy as the basis), spiritual element (deeper relationship and knowledge of God), intellectual element (profound knowledge of God’s mystery, humanity and world; and the teachings of the Church) and lastly pastoral or missionary element (understanding and practically carrying out the mission of Church). These pillars are interwoven in the individual daily life in the seminary.

Therefore, with all these pillars priesthood is built on a strong foundation of philosophical and properly furnished by theological training. The candidate would then be ready for the ordination.

Some hurdles
With all this, the seminary life can be very difficult at times. No seminarian is perfect! Not everyone is good in books, singing, sporting, attentive listening, and punctuality, let’s say everything. Some men must work extra hard and all this happens in the seminary too. But, just because one couldn’t read Greek or chant the Gregorian hymn doesn’t mean he cannot be ordained! And no one is so badly of that he cannot exhibit other good values and qualities. Hence, priestly formation is on individual level. Each person has his own motive, source of strength and the degree of hope. It is up to the individual seminarian to nature his own vocation with the aid of his formators and spiritual directions.

Other difficulties could be from high societal and personal expectations to extreme anonymity even beyond, individualism. From lack of constant gradualism to poor adoptability and accommodativeness of other cultures, for the seminary is rich in different cultures. The difficulties are really challenging but completely life changing!

L’histoire de Bahati.

« Quelle est la meilleure façon d’apprendre quelque chose sur l’avortement ? Que se passe dans les centres d’avortements ? Où est-ce qu’on les trouve ? Pourquoi on doit choisir d’avorter ? Comment sent-on après avoir avorté ? Est-ce que l’avortement résoudra un problème ? Si oui, lequel ? Quelle sont des conséquences de l’avortement? »

Voilà au moins quelques préoccupations que j’avais posées à Bahati, une amie d’enfance, lorsqu’on bavardait en facebook. Elle m’avait permis de partager avec vous chers lecteurs sa propre expérience de l’avortement qu’elle avait subit il y a une année. La voici.

« Je décrirai mon avortement comme le plus mauvais jour de mon existence dan ce monde. Je regrette beaucoup et souvent ça me fait mal au cœur… Je me rappelle dans le centre où je suis allée faire l’avortement, on m’a amenée au lit et m’a faite attendre un médecin. C’était le samedi matin. A ce moment là, en me couchant, je voudrais tellement me lever et s’en aller, car ma conscience me troublait.

Pourtant, la réalité devant moi, dont la peur que mes parents allaient me tuer s’ils savaient que j’étais en ceinte, la perte d’autorité morale dans ma famille, tenant compte que je suis l’aîné parmi les trois filles et aussi les exigences des mes camarades de l’université, me poussait davantage à faire l’avortement. J’étais donc perdue dans mon petit monde de confusion totale. Mais quand même je me suis consolée que cette expérience allait passer très vite avec du temps, et je l’oublierais.

Alors, pendant que mon esprit volait au ciel, une infirmière est arrivée et m’a demandée si je savais pourquoi j’étais là bas, et que si j’avais déjà signé que j’étais d’accord avec toute la procédure de l’avortement. Je lui ai répondue à une voix très faible que je voulais avorter. Tout de suite j’ai sentie le froid dans tout mon corps. Or il faisait chaud et j’ai commencée même à trembler. Mes yeux étaient pleins de larme…

L’infirmière a essayé de me calmer en m’assurant que tout était bien contrôlé. Elle m’a piqué avec une anesthétique pour réduire la douleur et calmer l’esprit. C’était la dernière chose que j’ai suivie consciemment.

Finalement, je me suis réveillée avec beaucoup de douleur dans mon ventre et la conséquence d’anesthésie aussi me donnait un mot de tête. L’infirmière m’a apporté deux comprimés de calmant et m’avait demandé si j’étais afin soulagée. J’ai payée la moitié de prix qui restait et après trois heures, je suis partie à la maison, là où, pendant trois ou quatre mois comme ça, j’étais enfermée complètement en moi-même, en regrattant mes actes. Personne dans ma famille ne connaît jusqu’aujourd’hui.

Malgré cela, je sais qu’un jour, je partagerais cette expérience avec ma mère sinon avec tous les membres de ma famille. C’est la croix que je porte avec moi dans ma vie quotidienne.

Après avoir même demandé le pardon à Dieu, je sens souvent qu’il ne m’a pas encore pardonné. Car, je n’ai pas encore pardonnée moi-même, ce qui est vraiment difficile. Habituellement, s’il y a quelque chose qui ne marche plus dan ma vie, je l’attribue au châtiment de Dieu. Parfois, j’essaie de la rationaliser pour la fuir, pourtant cette expérience me revient de temps à temps… »

Il est vrai qu’il y a milliard des femmes comme notre amie Bahati qui après avoir avorté manquent la tranquillité d’esprit toutes ses vies. Bahati ne voulait pas perdre l’autorité morale qu’elle avait devant sa famille et ses amies, mais, maintenant, elle vit dans une situation de souffrance intérieure.

La conscience humaine et les enseignements de l’Eglise Catholique tiennent toujours que la vie humaine est sacrée de conception à sa mort naturelle. L’avortement est la terminaison, naturellement spontané comme dans un cas d’une fausse couche ou artificiellement provoqué par un chirurgical ou clinique, de cette rythme naturelle de vie.

L’Eglise croit à la sainteté de vie d’un enfant dans l’utérus grâce au mystère de l’incarnation. La vierge Marie avait conçu par la puissance de l’Esprit saint la deuxième personne de la sainte Trinité, Jésus Christ, vrai Dieu et vrai Homme. Et pendant la visitation de marie à Elizabeth, les Sainte Ecriture nous révèle que « l’enfant tressaillit dans son (Elizabeth) sein… »

Face à tout cela, comment donc on peut aider notre amie Bahati et d’autres jeunes filles qui sont déjà tombées sciemment ou involontairement dans cette erreur d’avortement à retrouver la paix dans leur vie ? Discutons…, car vos réactions sont accueillies.


This article was published in the Nouvelles Congo, a missionary magazine in DR Congo.