As for London, it is another world. To give an idea of its restlessness is impossible. It is an anthill of men and women continuously in motion on every side. I’ll give you an account of it all viva voce. It would take more time than exists to scribble any idea of it on paper.
Letter to Henri Tempier, 23 June 1850, O.W. III n. 40
The first outreach of the new house of spirituality in Tower Hill is Father Oliver Barry’s “Retreat in the City” – which I have just concluded. Instead of listening to conferences, the method is to go out and experience the city as the instrument through which God communicates.
It was a strong Mazenodian experience for me. Tempted to rush around and “DO”, I had to force myself to “BE” and observe in order to let the faces of the city speak: the places where the many English Martyrs made an oblation of their lives; places commemorating where generous people made a difference to society; the art galleries that capture the spirit of the times; the business activities in multistoried glass palaces or a humble roadside stall; places where people are exploited and not respected, places where people are “different”, and then many moments in places of prayer and quiet in the midst of the ceaseless movement of millions of people…
Eugene was present in all these moments for me. It is clear that he continues to drive the members of his family towards “the poor with their many faces” throughout the world. Surely our Mazenodian attitude has to be that of making every moment of our lives a “retreat in the city.”
I love the idea of a “retreat in the city”, because I think that just may be where God calls so many of us to “be” – as you experienced Frank. I have always “enjoyed” the gifts of others – their art work, their writing and ability to bring to life entire universes with just pen and paper, music that moves my soul and voices that beg me to join in the song, ideas and inventions, the gifts of God in nature and the world around us and how it is all simply ‘awesome’. But recently I have found myself becoming “aware” of all of this – not just noting and enjoying it, but experiencing it on an entirely new level. It begins and ends with God and there is the sharing, being and gratitude at both ends and in the ‘in between’.
I would never have thought any of this was “Mazenodian” in any way, and yet it has been as I journey with the Oblates and as a member of the Mazenodian family that my universe has expanded, along with my awareness of God in everything and celebrating my being a part of all of that. Oh Eugene, who would ever have thought of the adventure you would lead us into.
Eugene talks about the restlessness in the city.
Frank mentions experiencing the city.
Eleanor sees the art, the writing, the music in the city.
Hmmmm, such diverse views… all part of what it means to be Oblate I guess – to know God is everywhere, in everything.
I was born, raised, schooled, worked, and lived most of my life in Toronto, in the heart of Toronto before I moved to beautiful, little Arnprior 15 years ago.
I know the city.
At our recent Oblate Community Days in Ottawa, I was taken back there and remembered. The sessions in the hall were wonderful and interesting, however being a smoker, I went out on the street (frequently) alone. There were many passers-by, walking and biking. I would have smiled and said “hello,” like we do when we meet people on the street in Arnprior, had they even glanced my way. But no. Their worried eyes were unalterably fixed on the nothingness right in front of them. I could almost sense the fear in their quick steps – like escaping; no strolling and gazing around here.
And I thought, “Yup, somebody needs to bring the peace and love of Christ here.”
The fancy cars parked along the curb were nice to look at though, except for the guy handing out parking tickets.
And then my over-night stay at Springhurst was just fabulous. It was an honour to sit and just chat with my new Oblate brothers. These men, men of God, are so interesting. The places they have been / the things they have done just boggled my mind. I was steeped in awe and respect. Their stories were about their past – everything in the past. I sensed a worry in them about the future.
And I thought, “Yup, somebody needs to bring the peace and love of Christ here.”
The grounds out behind Springhurst are simply amazing, except nobody uses them much any more, and all the doors are kept locked 24/7.
My recent city experience.
Frank, if I surmise by this writing, Eugene had been in London. I didn’t know that. It had to be an innovative approach given some leftover enmity in older citizen’s memories, between English and French, and their recall of Bonaparte, Wellington and Waterloo. And then to go to Tower Hill the site of the Martyrs. Although come to think of it, the emancipation of Catholics took place in 1829. Great timing on Eugene’s part.
Very Oblate – leave nothing undared, go to the margins.