At St Canice’s – in Celebration of the Feast of St Ignatius – 31^st July 2022

Celebration, flags, colour, music and mingling at St Canice’s on the Feast Day of St Ignatius inspires a sense of ‘Festa’. Freshly cut banana trees on the columns and at the doorways of the church bring a sense of Railaco to our doorstep here in Elizabeth Bay.

Inside, the church is decorated with flowers; with shiny leaves of the banana tree, huge bunches of bright yellow sunflowers and the red of the Leucadendron remind us of the Timor-Leste flag, and of our sister parish of the Railaco Jesuit Mission.

This feast of Ignatius brings together so many members of our Ignatian family. We are pleased to welcome students from St Aloysius College and the leaders of Jesuit Mission and JRS, along with young adults from the Cardoner Project with Fr Ramesh Richards SJ and Fr Robin Konig SJ, and Doctoral candidate in residence, Dave Braithwaite SJ. Steve Sinn returns and chooses to sit in the pews with so many old friends.

Drama, intended to reach into the imaginations and hearts of our congregation, is added to the celebration through symbolic ritual and sacrament.

The congregation is rather non-plussed at sounds they think to be roosters crowing and birds chirping somewhere in the church. Yes, they heard correctly, with just another little touch of Timor brought to Elizabeth Bay, to mystify and excite.

Muffled sounds of a trumpet from the loft, and then organ and violin joining-in playing ‘Gabriel’s Oboe’ from the Jesuit-inspired ‘The Mission’ is followed by long drawn-out notes of a didgeridoo breaking through an expectant air. Those haunting sounds from South America and of our ancient land pierce our inner consciousness. It’s transporting.  And, we are all brought to silence.

 

 

Fanfare of organ, trumpet and violin introduce our Entrance Hymn, ‘Christ is Made our Sure Foundation’. It reminds us of the ‘sure foundation’ St Canice’s laid in establishing our sister parish relationship with the Railaco Jesuit Mission 18 years ago.

Most importantly, Fr Sacha Goldman SJ celebrates the Eucharist with a gentle dignity. That prayerful act – whether richly involved like today, or simple – is the centrepiece of all that we hold dear.

In his homily, Fr Sacha speaks about ‘priorities’ and about looking beyond our immediate circle of family and friends to others who might need our support! He likens this to what Ignatius and his companions did, to what all of us are called to do, particularly when we belong to a Jesuit parish!

As we listen to a recent visitor to Railaco, Dan Elias, we are emotionally connected to the Timorese people of our sister parish in Railaco. Dan challenges each of us not to be ok with just being fortunate and comfortable.

He says, “I plead with you to help our neighbours that need our ongoing support. With my own two eyes I have seen how the funds are being put into good use and with my heart I have felt what it means to the community. Every little bit goes a long way. Our neighbours are grateful for what they have! We are ungrateful for what we don’t have”!

Dan closes by recounting the biggest revelation to come out of his experience –

“When I arrived in Railaco, I wanted to cry for these people, by the time I left I wanted to cry for us back home”.

Later in the Mass, our cantor Pascal Herington, (recently returned home from singing with the German Opera), steps across to stand beside Claudine at the grand piano.  He sings ‘Nella Fantasia’ to the tune of ‘Gabriel’s Oboe’ the theme of today’s Mass from ‘The Mission’. Pascal‘s mother was only one of many with tears in her eyes.

So rich is this Feast of St Ignatius, we let our joy burst forth in celebration, thankful for the Jesuit charism that flows. After the Mass, we join in the ‘festa’ in the forecourt of the church – mingling enjoying each other’s company and enjoying a special morning tea.

After years of Covid restrictions, we thank so many people for filling the church once again, and for staying to embrace each other looking forward to a return to normality.

Encounter in Timor – “Who am I?”

n this last trip to Timor in June, I enjoy simple interactions with local people, as well as informal chats with Jesuits while driving to mountain communities or sitting around their home table (shelling and eating pistachio nuts after dinner).

I find my encounters with students at Nossef, the Railaco secondary school, very fulfilling. Chatting casually after hours with lovely kids from distant villages, who live in the dormitories ratchet things up a notch. One afternoon, I watch the boys kneading and baking bread for their breakfast, and they take me to meet their pig being fattened for a festa.

These kids can take any adversity in their stride, and keep smiling. The hand-me-down ‘fridge to keep the butter in the boy’s dorm is ‘on the blink’, so no butter; just bread and water in the morning.

In the girl’s dorm, the breakfast now consists of porridge only. The $500 per month budget that pays a lady and buys food for 25 girls for a month no longer stretches to eggs and milk in the mornings. What to do?

 

Up here in the mountains, the roosters start crowing each day from 4 am. It’s a strangely peaceful feeling lying in my bed listening and waiting for the dawn. Dozing, I then hear the parish church bells tolling and the muffled sounds of children’s singing wafting across the grass. Finally, I need to steel myself to climb out of bed and ever so gingerly face the shock of cold water splashed over myself with a pail. The only redeeming grace is the cup of hot East Timorese Arabica black coffee waiting for me in the kitchen.

Novelty aside, there are serious moments in which I gain a great insight into many cultural and personal issues of Timorese living in small remote rural communities. Accompaniment in such societal change is an imperative for the Jesuits. But that also comes with the question ‘Who are we to ourselves and to others?’

This question is key to such a cultural enterprise. It enables an insight into their own calling, as well as to what they can offer: to better understand themselves and their people – to serve and guide. In a country where parents of today’s children never had a chance to go to school, providing a secondary education in a rural school for 375 local children is hugely important to them.

 

Being distanced from distractions of my everyday life; no newspapers; no television; and plenty of time alone in my room, I relax into a sense of deep interior freedom. Even being stricken with Covid on the day I’m due to depart from Timor, I am accepting, and continue with this feeling of peace and submission through my week of isolation. This overall experience is faith affirming.

In the nearly two weeks on this trip, I learn not only about ‘encounter’, but about myself. I develop an enhanced awareness about my own direction and purpose in life. And, especially, the important question; “who am I, not only to myself, but to others?”

I share my feelings each night with Dan Elias, a good Sydney friend who’s travelling with me on his first visit to Railaco. He is touched even more deeply by his experiences.

 

 

 

 

2002 – MICHAEL’S 60TH BIRTHDAY BLANKET BAY NZ FAMILY CELEBRATION . . . 

No less than 60 people have celebrated at 60th Birthday parties hosted in my honour around the World this year. My old Amex friend Jim Kober, Joe Walsh and a mellower Victor hosted a ritzy dinner for New York friends in May.

Then Eddy Buehlmann was gracious host to a group of my good European friends at that bastion of English snobbishness, the Royal Automobile Club in London in Pall Mall in June. Staying with Eddy in the days leading up to the dinner was simply hilarious. His efforts to get everything just right, and keeping guest list and venue as a surprise for me was like a re-play of ‘Monsoon Wedding’ or ‘La Cage aux Folles’.

Closer to home, and the actual 60th birthday weekend was at the Blanket Bay Lodge outside Queenstown in the South Island of New Zealand. It was conceived simply as a fun gathering of family – and friends who know my family.

Time for a spot of tea in front of the roaring fire blazing away in the huge stone fireplace at one end of the thirty-foot high Great Room. Sit still? We couldn’t. In the comfort of over-sized upholstered sofas at the other end of the room, we simply lay back and gape. The natural splendour of the snow-capped peaks of the Humboldt Mountains across the lake is numbing. It’s already shaping up well.

The polished floors in the public areas and bedrooms were retrieved from old shearing sheds. The weathered old beams came from old railway bridges in the South Island, and from steamer wharves along the Brisbane River. Artisans were brought in from Mexico to teach the locals how to ‘age’ the remaining timbers for architraves and doors. The schist stone for much of the walls was quarried locally, and the natural landscape is preserved with artistic use of local grasses. The guests will go crazy.

Blanket Bay Lodge

Guests at 60th

Uncle Michael unashamedly wishes to communicate with nephews and nieces as well as a few good friends who see the irrefutable in Science  over faith in Religion.

Faith in God is of little interest, or, simply,  for us oldies like Nanna, Uncle Michael and Aunty Anne.

 

We are all educated thinking adults, engineers, scientists, doctors, and so much more. We all have our reasons for going to church or not. But that doesn’t take away my desire to share a subject that I think is of certain interest to us all.

I share an article by a Jesuit priest whom I admire greatly. He’s a down to earth thinker, and always has a balanced view on so many things going on in the world today. Chris Middleton S J is the Rector of Xavier College in Melbourne.

 

You may not know it, but over the last week we have been celebrating National Science Week. With his permission, I want to give over my column to Christopher Middleton SJ, Rector of Xavier College, Melbourne, about Catholicism’s long and complex relationship to science. Here are his keen and cogent insights.

Stay safe and well,
Richard Leonard SJ

 

Read on . . . or click here to print

 

“. . . The pandemic is a reminder of the importance of science and research, and especially the significance of medical sciences. Challenges around the environment, pollution, energy and sustainability also throw up immense challenges for us. And being at home has again highlighted the significance of technology in our lives, and how it is so tied to our ability to communicate and recreate – for many, no doubt, the omnipresent screen will be a lasting image of 2020.

This month also marks the dropping of the Atomic bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the 75thanniversary of the conclusion of World War 2. Perspective is a tricky thing, but this anniversary reminds us that previous generations have gone through experiences that have turned their worlds upside down. The announcement that the young Tasmanian sailor, Teddy Sheean, will be awarded the Victoria Cross for laying down his life for his crew in 1942 is a timely reminder too, that even the worst of times can bring out the best in people.

 

When you replace ‘why is this happening to me’ with ‘what is this trying to teach me, everything shifts.

Yes, Sydney is in lockdown till end of September. And most of us are expecting it to continue into October and maybe November.

A curfew commences this evening for 12 of Sydney’s local government areas. Fortunately, this does not apply to where I live.

We are proceeding well towards the 70% vaccinated target, but even then, we still fear some restrictions will remain. The realisation among federal and state governments that elimination of Covid Delta variant is well-nigh impossible. Once we get vaccinations to a certain level, the dilemma for politicos and medicos becomes ‘how do we live with it’.

I feel in a sense of suspended animation spinning around. It stops only when I happen to recall a project that requires my full attention. And then, I’m quickly back to earth, motivated, and nose to the grindstone.

I make good use of the hour of outdoor exercise allowed each day and make my way down to the park walk along the harbor foreshore. On occasion, I use a park bench for exercise, but more often than not, I just take in the newness of Spring or talk to the birds.

I can still gather my wits together and follow a recipe, cook something unusual, and sit and enjoy it watching the 6 PM news. But in these first nine weeks, I’ve given up alcohol, except for on my birthday. I don’t know how long I want to hold out now.

Apple tells me that my iPhone usage is up. That’s probably an easier outlet for the expiation of nervous energy, ahead of picking-up the telephone.

I now present to you…the Duchess of MTV Land and the Duke of Hastings #MTVAwards pic.twitter.com/FSl3LPmKSi

— Movie & TV Awards (@MTVAwards) May 17, 2021

While 2020 has been the year of Covid challenges, Andrew has chosen to replace a major health challenge with a determination to have a makeover of his new home ready to host a festive Christmas and welcome guests and family to celebrate.

In advance of the Stuart Festival of Christmas - old friend Michael arrives - and Andrew's brother Duncan

All of Andrew's imaginings come together in this one photo of the Christmas table set in the large room with restored pressed-metal ceiling.

Members of the wider Stuart family are among the sixteen sitting down to Andrew's Christmas Lunch

Two hours from Sydney in rolling hills of the Southern Highlands lies the tranquil area of Wilde’s Meadow. Tranquillity naturally includes the singing of birds, frogs croaking, and cows moo-ing. This sylvan paradise can be shaken awake though by one rogue sulphur-crested cockatoo flying across the paddock on the other side of the pond squawking with frustration on finding wire mesh on the wooden railings to prevent him from gnawing them to ruination, again.

Sitting-out on the terrace in the late afternoon, just shooting-the-breeze with a cup of tea and one of Robyn's Christmassy mince tarts, provides the loveliest welcome. Plump silver perch swim around in the pond and the green hillside beyond is nearly obliterated in yellow of dandelions, right up to the nature reserve sheltering the wallabies.

Sitting-out on the terrace in the late afternoon, just shooting-the-breeze with a cup of tea and one of Robyn’s Christmassy mince tarts, provides the loveliest welcome. Plump silver perch swim around in the pond and the green hillside beyond is nearly obliterated in yellow of dandelions, right up to the nature reserve sheltering the wallabies. Over that side somewhere is the Henhouse Hilton where Robyn motors over to feed her ‘girls’ with the scraps, and to collect the new eggs, still warm.

CLICK HERE to see Robyn go quite clucky too when she goes visit her’ girls’ in the henhouse on her quad bike telling them all that she loves them.

Good rains have recently broken years of drought in outback New South Wales and Covid has changed our lives, forcing lockdowns. International travel plans have been put on hold for the foreseeable future.

Good weather forecasts for these next days is all I need to get going on a country road trip here in Australia. This also gives me the chance to give the car a long run and blow the carbon deposits out of the engine and improve the fuel consumption.

I’m sharing the driving with a good friend, Paul. We break the first leg of this country road trip for a pot of tea, hot scones, jam and cream at the famous Magpie Café in Berrima. It sets a mood. Getting out of the car, the smell of smoke from wood-burning fireplaces wafting from chimneys and birds singing is a joyous country welcome.

The Magpie Cafe in Berrima for hot scones and tea

Driving in the Canberra direction we turn-off at Lake George, and then head for the little village of Gundaroo in the Yass Valley for the first night. Here in beautiful countryside in the last days of winter, the light is softly pervasive – in the sky, the rocks, the trees. It even filters the shadows.

'Grazing' our restaurant in old Royal Hotel from 1875 in Gundaroo

The colour yellow saturates the roadside with branches heavy in fluffy balls of Cootamundra wattle. It heralds the explosion of the coming spring. We see the early signs of the emerging spectrum of greens and a rush of pinks along blossoming boughs that will transform this landscape in captivating colours in the next days.

Arriving at Andrew's new cottage in Orange

. . . Driving on through vineyards and orchards we reach the thriving regional centre and foodie paradise of Orange ‘at peak hour’.  We’re spending the weekend with Andrew in his recently acquired new home. From the blooming daffodils and the white pebble formal layout at the front of the property, I get the immediate impression that his makeover of this 1875 property started with the gardens.

The inside is welcoming and warm but the whole place is still very much a ‘’work in progress. The kitchen is under restoration, and the 13-foot pressed metal ceiling in the dining room is still being patched. But, true to form, with no concern for pictures stacked against walls and boxes still to be unpacked, Andrew serves a ‘candlelight supper’ of roasted shoulder of Cowra lamb and vegetables on a properly set dining table.

We sailed up the river in the misty dawn this morning to anchor mid-river near the village of Syuru. Time for croissant and coffee on deck before going ashore.

In our zodiacs, we proceed in V-formation to meet an advancing party in Asmat warrior canoes that set-out from the shore to the beat of drums and much noise from all the villagers lining the river bank..

This South Papua province of Indonesia is one of the most remote and mysterious regions of the world. This Asmat region is the realm of headhunters and cannibals; and where Michael Rockefeller Jr disappeared, feared eaten, in the 50’s.

I feel incredibly privileged to have the opportunity, not only to witness a traditional welcome with Asmat warrior canoes rowing-out to greet us mid-river in our zodiacs, but also to walk among the people of Syuru village (in Indonesian West Papua) and feel so welcome.

A true National Geographic moment. Ponant is operating these cruises in conjunction with National Geographic. We are lucky enough to get to live the dream.

Another happy moment is seeing the captain take his own zodiac up to the village and invite children to come for a spin. (A ‘Pope Francis’ moment, albeit by a Frenchman in a zodiac?)
The affable Captain Michel Quioc is than more than happy to rub shoulders with the village Chiefs and pose for photographs.

Hope dawns in Yirrkala.

I share just a little of my experience here in Yirrkala in the hope that ‘the art of the possible’, a model of integration of first nations people, can be extended to include even more of Australia’s first nation communities. It’s always disheartening to read of so many people struggling to overcome disadvantage and rise above the poverty line.

Coming ashore again in zodiacs, there’s a relaxed tropical feel of wide-open spaces as we walk up from the beach along red sand paths into the township. We head for a seat in the shade of large trees surrounding a courtyard outside the Buku-Larrnggay Mulka Centre.

“The feeling on your face as it is struck by the first rays of the sun” is an apt meaning for “Buku-Larrnggay”. And “Mulka” means “a sacred but public ceremony”.  I can relate to these as I sit and wait.

A community leader welcomes us to Yirrkala explaining that “we are not like white man who tells the story of first nations peoples as if we are strangers”. 

He goes on, “you are welcome to this place. You are a person and a friend.

He reminds us that Australia did not acknowledge aboriginal people in 1901, and they are still fighting for recognition:

“Aboriginal people still have a law and customs; they still own the land; we struggle; we still live; we want to share something that is really special; we want to share our culture so you can learn; tell your people. Thank you very much for coming.”

We start to hear singing coming down the street and see a huge crowd of women and children walking together towards us to join in the ceremonies. Rhythmic sounds of clap sticks and ‘yidaki’ (didgeridoo) alert us to the start of the ‘welcome to country’ and smoking ceremony.

A wiry old grandfather adorned in paint, armulets and feathers has such an aura about him – a spiritual figure from another age. He looks the part; he is the part. He‘s from another world.

As for us, we have one foot in two different worlds … Le Lapérouse and . . . Le Dreamtime.

Grandfather, singularly, assumes a rare and special role. He starts the welcome dance to the music of didgeridoo and clap sticks putting all he has in him into it. He exhausts himself, ending-up leaning, breathless and bowed, on the central ceremonial dance poles until assisted into the shade and given water.

The carved and painted poles represent each clan group. and have memorial and mourning ceremony applications. They are decorated with bands of ochre pigment, woven strings and feathers.

In this rare dance performance, we learn that the grandfather is passing-on identity and knowledge to his great grandson standing out here with others in this small community of first nation’s people dressed in a rainbow sash. He tells of ‘who we are’ and ‘where we come from’.

We are indeed honoured to be witness to this.

Grandfather is the figure head of the Galiwin’ku community on Elcho Island off the coast of East Arnhem Land in Australia’s Northern Territory.

The dancing that follows tells of the people’s spiritual journey; a journey starting with a God that comes from nothing and who is represented in the poles set up in the centre ground before us. The songs talk about the universe and creation from their view. Culture is presented in timelines. And the poles represent timelines of a different time.

We sit comfortably on chairs placed on mats laid over powdery red soil. Branches of eucalypt leaves on top of simple structures provide shade. Beyond the central open courtyard, the sea rolls in in gentle waves on a wide stretch of beach and breaks over large ochre boulders at each end. Shade trees line the shore. Last week, a crocodile took one of their dogs.

Song, didgeridoo and clap sticks herald the entrance of an enthused community, daubed with ash and white paint, branches waving in their hands, women and children included, circling around the poles dancing, stomping with clouds of fine red dust up their nostrils, unperturbed. (Our worlds are very far apart indeed.)

Rundale Palace, stands majestically in its yellow grandeur surrounded by apple orchards on the plains of southern Latvia.  For all its majesty it now sits in the middle of nowhere. As we approach from Vilnius, wind gusts blow dust and dander up my nose, so I’m not inclined to hang around for long. And where is that much vaunted rose garden? In such absence, I tread warily squishing over fallen fruit under the trees in the apple orchard trying unsuccessfully to reach ripening red beauties on branches beyond my reach. I do gather some low hanging fruit in my arms to take back to Dominic because our driver that he can take home and pickle.

ow many times have I passed the Kaiser-Wilhelm Memorial Church at the end of the Kurfenstendam In West Berlin, and not gone in? I’ve remedied that now. I not only sat quietly for a time admiring the blue Chartres glass walls of the Memorial Hall, but I bought a ticket to the concert tonight.

 

 

Popular classics performed beautifully by the Berlin chamber Orchestra, and some excellent soloists. I’m also a sucker for a Toccata and Fugue on the Schuke organ with its 63 registers and more than 5,000 pipes.

I was drawn more into the music tonight than listening in a concert hall or at home. The lady who sold me the ticket gave me the choice of being near the cello or amongst the violins. I chose the violins – the horse hair of the bow was swishing at such a pace across the strings I could almost feel the friction.

 

Requiescant in Pace

 

IAN ANTHONY MUSGRAVE +RIP
2.11.1935 – 24.8.2019

After a stoic battle with prostate cancer over more than ten years, my eldest brother Tony breathed his last this afternoon amongst his family at home.

We remaining siblings, Michael, Anne and Mark feel blessed to have had the opportunity to spend time with Tony as late as yesterday cheekily ‘jousting’ about many memories of good times past.

Rest in Peace Tony+

 

 

 

 

A very fruitful relationship

he whole week, from June 23rd to 28th, was a very fruitful and memorable time for the eighteen of us from St. Canice’s who spent the whole week in Timor.

We visited the Railaco parish including surrounding villages in the mountains, as well as the Jesuit schools in Kasait.

The aim of the visit was to see the reality and the progress of the Railaco parish in the programs St Canice’s supports: feeding program, mobile clinic, NOSSEF high school, water project, and other projects of the Jesuit Social Services. . . . . .

Please click here to read the full PICTORIAL MAGAZINE:
 

Meeting the people of Railaco – GOLD!

 

 

Children delight at eating tasty food

This video is about Children eating tasty food brought by the Railaco Jesuit Mission in the remote sub-district Cocoa in East Timor.

It’s quite incredible that 100 children turn-up in the small sub-district of Cocoa outside Railaco today to greet us. Some are just babies carried in a sling by an older sibling, and others are nursed by their mothers. After announcing our arrival with the bagpipes, Khoda’s enthusiasm and passion sees him serving meals to the kids, and relating immediately to these youngsters through sparkling eyes, and the simple language of love.

Parishioners of St Canice’s Sydney initiated this children’s feeding program with Fr Bong of the Jesuit Railaco Mission way back in 2004, and they have been the main benefactor ever since. The sense of joy we take away is more than reward.

We leave a trail of happy kids following us in a cloud of dust.

Click on photo to open YouTube video:

Our Neighbours in Timor

T

he word neighbour derives from those near-by. When the neighbour is drawn into the exchange of kindnesses, our human-ness is enhanced by the enabling of goodness.

This is what the relationship between St Canice Elizabeth Bay parish and the Jesuit Mission in Railaco is all about – simply being neighbourly, the mutual comfort each of us derive from having good neighbours.

Introduction to the Immersion Experience

We are ambassadors of St Canice Parish in its long-time involvement with Railaco.

Our visit to Timor is an ‘immersion’ experience. As ordinary people, we go to Railaco to listen to the voices of others who speak of ordinary needs.

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