Merry Christmas!

Well Christmas has come and gone and now we are getting ready for New Years!
It seems I have so much to tell since my last blog entry so lets see if I can limit it to the high lights.

First, lets talk about our diesel van. We now have a gas station with a diesel pump. Unfortunately a few weeks ago his pump broke. So we go see a wonderful man who has drums of diesel fuel in his back yard, and a garden hose. You pull in, tell Phil how much you want and he puts the hose into one of the drums, sucks on the hose and drains out the fuel into a 5 gallon bucket. Then he puts the bucket on top of the oil drum and sucks on the hose again, syphoning the 5 gallons into your gas tank. He does this over again until your tank is full and he knows how much to charge you. A pretty simple operation - until - he says he's leaving for the Christmas/New Years holiday and will be gone for 2 weeks. Thus eliminating our last source of diesel for what will be a very busy time. So I fill up the van, then bring down a 10 gallon gas can and fill that too, hoping it will get me through 2010 and Phil's return. We'll come back to this one.

With Christmas falling on Friday it creates a four-day liturgical series. Thursday night we rejoiced with the Christmas Vigil Mass at the US Navy base, then drove to Cargill Creek for the Christmas Midnight Mass. We started with an hour of carols at 11, then the Eucharistic Service for our Midnight service, followed by the 40 minute drive home. It was 2:30AM when we hit the hay, only to leap out of bed at 7 to grab a bite to eat and prepare for the 8:30 Christmas Mass at Dawn here at St. John's, then drive back to Cargill Creek for the 11:15 Christmas Mass During the Day. We finally crashed at home after our 4th different Christmas liturgies, with 4 different sets of readings and 4 homilies (phew!)
BUT
With Friday's Christmas liturgies done, it was time for the Saturday/Sunday weekend liturgies so we hit the ground running and did it all over again for the weekend.

After our last Sunday service I talked to one of our members whose daughter had just had a baby. One of the things we see alot here is that there are alot of grandparents raising their grandchildren. Their children live on Nassau or Grand Bahama, for work, but when they have babies they return home and leave the babies with their parents so they can go back to work. Ginni and I had gotten to know this family and that this would be the 8th grand-child in their house and none of them have been baptized. With the mother still home with the newborn this was an ideal time to visit so we said we'd come visit on Tuesday (I'll finish that story in a minute).

We headed home, but first we stopped off in Man-O-War Sound and did the first of our sick calls. This first stop is with a sweetheart of a woman. She is in her 90's, blind, and while she can be confused sometimes, she was on top of her game this weekend. We talked a long time before we started to pray and, after she had recieved communion and our prayer was over she gave me a big hug. Feeling my belly she said, "O Faddah, you be da big mahn, Faddah", then turning to Ginni she says, "Sistah been feedin you, Faddah, O yes, Sistah been feedin you". Everyone just about fell on the floor laughing.

From this stop we went to our next, another elderly woman who we've been visiting for several months. In her 80's this woman had just lost her son to cancer and she wanted to talk a bit. During this conversation we found out she had 18 children, 11 girls and 7 boys. When her husband died she was left with quite a mob to raise on her own, but she did it. With the death of her son she has now lost 5 of her 18 children. She'll take the ferry to Nassau on Wednesday to attend the funeral, our prayers will be with her.

Leaving her we finally were headed home to crash - but that's when we had the flat tire. A flat should not be a big deal, but a flat in a 15 passenger Mitsubishi van does bring a level of excitement. For starters, I discovered the lug nuts were screwed on, and then secured with super glue (only kidding, but you get my point). To get them off I literally had to stand on the handle of the lug wrench and then jump up and down until it moved - for all five lug nuts. Once loose, the next step was to jack up the car. (Did I forget to say that Ginni stayed in the van during all this to pray). To jack up the car Mitsubishi, in its wisdom, gave us a teeny tiny hydraulic jack. To reach the axle I ended up lying on my back (still in my Sunday best by the way) and reach past the muffler to position the jack - then slowly - s l o w l y - the jack began to actually move upwards. Eventually the jack reached the axle and the van began to rise. I slid out from under the van, took off the tire, put on the spare, re-fastened the lug nuts - all was well. Except how do you make this jack go down? Things that make you go hmmmmmm.

I could see a little nob on the side of the jack that looked like it fit into the notch in the jack handle, so I reach under the car (after lying on my back once more), and twist the little nob. Instantly all the air in the jack is released and with a rather loud hissssssss, the car lowers to the ground. A bit too quickly for me since I was still lying on my back under the van. Now I know for next time.

So we get home and put our feet up and try to find out how the Patriots are doing. I needed the good news of their victory after BC's loss in the Emerald Bowl.

Today is Tuesday - remember the newborn baby? So after all the driving on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day the van has 1/4 tank of fuel so I carry my 10 gallon gas can from the garage to the van and drain half of it into the van. I sure hope I can stretch this out till Phil returns. Then Ginni and I drive back to Cargill Creek to meet the new baby. When we pull into the yard the other kids run out to meet us and lead us into the back yard. There is a small fire smoking up the yard to keep away the bugs. Its burning in an old tire rim and right now coconut husks are smoldering away.

I meet grandma, who is sitting on a bucket. "How have you been?" I ask "I've been very sick, I fell onto the rocks and hurt my shoulder - they took me to the Navy Base to get X-Rays but nothing is broken. I've been hurt for 4 weeks and nobody has come to see me." Well that wasn't the best way to start but we talked, and my VNA nurse-wife was simply wonderful with her. Meanwhile I met the cutest little 1 month old baby girl ever. The kids and mom all got a kick out of my picking her up and cradling her and rocking her - despite her very full diaper.

We talked about the delivery, her little tiny fingernails, her long eye lashes, the kids in a big circle all around Faddah. (Its funny, they call me Deacon and Faddah interchangably, and Ginni is either Sistah or Miss Ginni). Finally we asked the question and I was SO relieved that she decided that THIS baby would be baptized. Then I asked, "and what about all these?" gesturing to the other 7 kids. Here it was grampa's turn to speak "Yes, Deacon, we want all of them to be baptized". Alleluia!

So mommy eventually gets her baby back and takes her inside to clean her up and I pull out a pad and with the grandparents help we get the names, ages, grades, and parents of all 8 kids. Most parents were unmarried, some had several fathers, one set of 3 all had the same father who, we learn, was brutally murdered on Nassau. At one point Ginni said, "We should contact all their parents and get permission" and Grandpa takes control, "Dey left their chill'un wit us, we have no way to contact dem, WE are raising these chill'un, WE be de guardians, WE want dem baptized". It was powerful. It was a moment I'll remember for a long time.

All of the kids were bright-eyed, energetic, enthusiastic kids. I explained baptism to them, and to the grandparents and the eagerness with which they look forward to this was infectious. I am just so happy that this entire family will come forward at Mass in a few weeks and 8 kids from one family, from age 11 to 2 months, will be baptized. What an expression of faith, what a witness to the parish, what a Christmas present!

Enough for now - but there is more to tell - next time I hope to have a few pics of the manger scene outside of the church and the cross atop the church, now encircled with Christmas lights. The story of my climbing on the roof for that one is 'interesting'.

Movie Night!

One of the things we are beginning to realize is that whenever there is a school vacation there is not too much to do on our island. Lots of our parishioners are planning to go to the US or Nassau for Christmas. (Chistmas on Nassau is dominated by Junkanoo - think Caribbean mardi-gras)

Well we decided to try something new and have movie night at Church.

We had brought a view DVDs with us and one of them was THE NATIVITY so we scheduled a movie night! Wed at St. John's and Thur at Christ the King.

I moved our TV from the rectory into the church, set up the DVD player, and we were ready to go. Ginni baked cupcakes and I picked up a case of soft drinks for 'intermission' and we were ready to go.

We had about 15-20 at St. John's and it seemed to be a hit, after the movie we talked about it a bit and for most of our parishioners seeing a movie like this was a real treat. Christ the King was a hit as well but the audience was dramatically different. We had 17 children and 20 adults - of the 17 children, 10 were there with no parents - and when I say children, I mean 5-10 year olds.

This is a PG movie because of some violent scenes (slaughter of the innocents for example) and I made a point of explaining things so it worked, but I was amazed at the number of unaccompanied children. Especially since for some of those in the more remote parts of the island we provided transportation.

Imagine pulling up to a house, honking, and have 5 little kids run out with no adults. When you ask "Are your parents coming?" the response is, "No Deacon, dey be off". Translation - no, they are off the island, meaning these kids are left alone without parents until they return, the oldest 11 year old being in charge.

Ginni sat with one crew of kids to make sure they stayed still and I was in the back with another crowd. All in all they were pretty well behaved.

Next time we do this we'll show NARNIA and have a more child-specific video for this audience.
Till next time.

Christ the King pic

A few blog entries ago I described the celebration of the Feast of Christ the King that we had at our church of the same name. In that post I described the decorations inside the church and I have just recieved a pic from that event that I thought I would share.

The front of the altar is encircled with fresh fruit and veggies that were given to parishioners, plus a banner in front of the altar reading 'Feast of Christ the King'.

Those of you reading this from St. Timothy's in Norwood may recognize the Book of the Gospels on the altar. When St. Tim's 'upgraded' we were blessed to recieve this glorious gift and its been put to good use ever since.

Swimming with the hogs

One of our parishioners told us a story on Sunday I thought you'd enjoy.
She was swimming in Fresh Creek, right in front of her home, when she heard something behind her. She turned and there was a hog, swimming along with the current, coming right at her.
She made a bee line for the shore and, beating the hog, ran into the house and called her husband.

By that point the hog had reached shore and had walked into their back yard. When it started rooting around in her flower beds she didn't know what to do. It was then that the wild dogs (known here at potcakes), who had been chasing the hog, also reached shore. Around and around the backyard they went until the hog dove back into the creek and headed back to the shore the chase had started on.

I should explain for the Bostonians reading this that Fresh Creek is not fresh, but salt water flowing in and out with the tides with a very strong current. It is just about as wide as the Merrimack River and wild hogs here pretty much never leave the bush, much less enter someones back yard.

Suffice it to say, when the hog (with dogs paddling in hot persuit), finally reached the distant shore, her husband arrived to chase the hog away. Together they watched the chase continue on the other side of the creek as the exhausted dogs gave up and porky won his freedom.

She told me the next time she was going swimming she was going to look both ways before jumping into the creek.

RCIA and Christ the King

Those of you who know me from the States know that I taught RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults) at St. Timothy's in Norwood. Over the years it has been a source of great joy to see people converting to Catholicism and being a part of that as they come closer to Jesus by coming closer to His Church.

When we first arrived on Andros there was one man here in Fresh Creek who had made the decision to join the church but had been waiting for several years for someone to be here and teach him. We also met someone on the AUTEC Base who had been considering converting and, after talking with him, he too decided to begin formation. Not to be outdone, a woman in Cargill Creek approached me and said her grandchildren had moved in with her and they had never been baptized - could I do it. Well the grandchildren are 17 and 18 and, rather than a simple infant baptism, at that age, RCIA is more appropriate as they make the journey to the adult decision to join the church.

So - over the past year and a half these 4 people have been learning about the church. The teens, as part of our Confirmation program; the adults meeting with Ginni and I weekly. As we get closer to Easter (when they will recieve the Sacraments) the RCIA program has a 'Rite of Welcoming or Rite of Acceptance' where the individual stands before the community and confirms their intent to go forward, and their sponsors, with the community, confirm their willingness to help them on their journey.

Well, a few weeks ago was the Feast of Christ the King and we did the Rite on that Sunday - in 3 different churches. At AUTEC, Kenny and his wife came forward and the community was all grins as Kenny, with his wife at his side as sponsor, affirmed his intention to continue formation towards reception of the Sacraments. At St. John Chrysostom it was Moses, with his wife by his side, who was welcomed with applause. Finally, at Christ the King, our two teenagers bravely came forward with their grandmother. Here too the church errupted in applause but this was especially powerful because it was also the Feast of Christ the King.

To celebrate their patron parishioners had decorated the church building with balloons from the rafters, a banner in front of the altar, and a huge pile of fruit and vegetables before the altar as well, symbolizing how God had blessed us over the past year.

After services were finished the fruit and vegetables were distributed among the people and we all marched to the end of the street where there are some tiki huts, benches and tables. The women of the parish had cooked up a storm and there was ham, chicken, peas and rice, macaroni salad, macaroni and cheese, soft drinks, punch, and the list goes on and on.

Everyone had a great time but the highlight for me was eating raw sugar cane for the first time in my life. The children were surprised to hear I had never eaten 'cane'. A little girl handed me what looked like a 4" piece of bamboo and all the children gathered round. One of the ladies came over with a knife and split it down the middle (not something offered to the kids who basically gnawed through to the middle). The technique as pretty simple, just take this piece of wood and bite out the sweet center piece. So I take bite - my front teeth digging into the wood (call it cane if you want, but basically its wood). I dig out a good-sized chunk and once I have it in my mouth I suck on it, then nibble on it to break it down a bit, then chew on it - and yes, its kind of sweet, but basically I now have a mouthful of splinters.

I smiled, handed my 4" piece of cane back, told everyone how good it was, but that I'd rather have a lollipop. I ended up spitting my splinters into a bush and rinced out my mouth with a Diet Coke to get rid of the fragments.

All in all the celebration was a great success and to bring 4 people closer to full communion with the Church was a joy.

Till next time.

CCD and the Hot Wire

So Ginni is back in the US and I am teaching her CCD class of 4th graders. The lesson this week is about the beatitudes. The book we are using focuses on being happy, using the format of the beatitudes "Happy are the ... For they shall ..."

So, I ask the kids to write down three people they know who are happy - and why.
They all start writing away, except one. This is an 'active' boy who can't sit still, can't stop talking, and typically can't focus on the task at hand.

Eventually they get that first task done and I ask the next question, if you could have anything in the world that would make you happy what would you want? Again, they all start writing away, except one. As he acts up and distracts the others I'm getting a bit short on patience but finally they're all done and I have them read some of their ideas.

There are the obvious answers like, I wish I had a million dollars. Then there are the child-like ideas like, I wish I could fly. Then we get to the hyper-active trouble making kid. "I wish I wouldn't get beaten with the hot wire." Just like that - spoken with no excitement, no embarrasment, as if it was the most natural thing to be beaten with the hot wire and his wish was that he wouldn't get beat.

Coming from Boston, with all the child-abuse sensibilities filling me I begin wondering what child advocate group I need to call. When the class is over they all leave and I start setting up for the High School kids that come next. One of the volunteers that comes for that class is someone who is actually a teacher so I pull her aside and tell her about the hot wire. She shakes her head and looks at her feet and says, "You know Deacon, corporal punishment is allowed in the schools here. In fact its encouraged."

The public school teachers here are empowered to beat the children who act up. A paddle is something teachers have in the classroom. Clearly they don't use the hot wire, that's something he experiences at home. My volunteer told me that a few months ago a member of Parliament had written an editorial in one of the newspapers asking the question 'Should corporal punishment be eliminated in the schools?' He put forth his argument and for the next few days he was ripped up and down by just about everyone. 'Who do you think you are? Are you better than God? The bible says spare the rod and spoil the child - are you better than the bible?' It just went on and on for days and eventually he simply dropped the idea as being extremely unpopular.

I can recall during last year's CCD program I mentioned that the kids were difficult to control to a few parents and their immediate response was 'Well beat them, Deacon - if they don't behave beat them'.

Clearly we are not beating them - but equally clear is that beating the children who act up is part of the Bahamian culture. Eliminating the beating with a hot wire, however, is something I need to look into.

Till nex time.

Yet another murder

Saturday morning at 6:30 the phone rings. Its someone from our church in Cargill Creek telling me that one of my parishioners sons was shot last night in Nassau. He tells me she will be trying to catch a morning flight and it might be good if I could be there.

I wash up, throw on some clothes and head to the Andros Town airport. The airport in the early morning is a busy place. The terminal is one 30'x30' building with several small airlines and a few charters who seem to all schedule thier morning flight to Nassau from 7-7:30.

I know the family car and, scanning the parking lot I know they haven't reached here yet so I wait in the van, hoping to catch them before they go inside. Eventually they arrive and she is clearly overcome with grief. We hug a long time as her husband unloads the luggage. Her mother is also with them for the trip to Nassau.

I should explain that her son is from a prior relationship. He is not the son of her current marriage. As her husband unloads the luggage and she and I hug, amid wails of grief, people begin to come over and gradually word spreads throughout the airport. Everyone knows her, everyone knows her son, and the shock of his being shot gives way to compassion.

People help her into the terminal, her husband buys the tickets, her cries and tears fill the small building. I wipe her tears, and gradually am able to lead her outside for some privacy. She is unable to talk but I begin to calm her down a bit reminding her how God has worked in her life in the past, how He has been with her in tough times before, and how He will be with her through this as well. All the time she is nodding, agreeing, but the tears will not stop and all we can do is hold on another.

Her husband and mother join us and he asks the mother for her money so he can buy her ticket too. Its then she tells him she has no money. In the midst of all the caos his face fills with disbelief. He looks at his hands and knows there isn't enough money for 3 tickets, and helplessly he looks at me. I open my wallet and have $30 - the ticket is $50. In the crowd surrounding us is a man who also lost a son to a shooting in Nassau not 4 months ago. "What do you need?" he asks, seeing me with my wallet open and the look of despair on the husbands face, and a $20 bill is added to the kitty.

Back to the counter goes the husband to buy the 3rd ticket, and knowing we have time I start steering her to the church van so she can have some privacy while we wait for the plane. Half way to the van people come streaming out of the terminal calling us. Rather than having them wait for the flight we had tickets for, the airline gave the money to one of the charter flights whose plane was loaded and ready to go. The charter was holding the plane so they could get off as soon as possible.

Ten minutes later they are on the plane, the door closes, and the plane starts moving - literally before they reach their seats I think.

That night the details appear on the news. An altercation in a Nassau night spot - words are said, and its over - but then he returns with a gun.

In the year we have been here 4 men from Andros have been killed on Nassau. This young man came from a family that doesn't have much. He served as an altar boy and as a youngster he was bright and one of his teachers noticed. With some effort she was able to work with him and helped him win a scholarship to a college in the US. When he returned to the Bahamas, he started work and his future looked bright.

There are no words for the mother of this man. Her grief and pain are real and it will take her quite some time to deal with the loss of her son.

Please keep her in your prayers, and mention Ginni and I in those prayers as we will be ministering to her long after the funeral and burial.