Friday, 27 January 2017

“When I Grow Up, I Want to be an Artist”

This is a post I wrote back in 2012 when I had the opportunity to serve for a while in the Philippines.


“When I grow up, I want to be an artist.” I still remember saying those words to a room of teachers when I was in the third standard, participating in the primary school elections for fourth standard ‘prefects’. Every other candidate said they wanted to be a teacher when they grew up. We had to do our speeches a second time because the teachers couldn’t make up their minds, and the second time I was so flustered that I parroted the other kids and said I wanted to be a teacher.

I remember the teachers kidding with me about my career choice confusion. Looks like it was prophetic though, because from all those kids I was the only one who became a teacher. But I did love art, and spent most of my life sketching (in my textbooks), making cards and doing art projects, although I never had any kind of art training until my teacher’s training art class. I loved art though, and I never thought I would get the chance to rediscover that side of myself... as a Catholic volunteer.

Before I moved to my new post in the Philippines, I had been feeling the need to find time to do ‘me stuff’, things that may not be officially ‘volunteer work’, but are a part of who I am and the gifts God had given me. I promised myself that when I came here I would make cards again and do some kind of art. Art is very important to my team mate, R, too. In fact, she had been contemplating an Art History major before she decided to do theology and Spanish instead. So we both wanted to make it happen.

But over the past two months, things became pretty busy again, with 24 classes every week at the school, lesson planning, household chores and trips to the big city four hours away. There never seemed to be enough time or space to start and complete an art project. Then... R’s elementary school sent us two big boxes... full of stationery and art supplies for children in the Philippines! I cannot tell you how thrilled we were. We knew there were many kids in our school who were creative or artistically inclined, but they hardly have any material or training. Even a box of crayons or markers are a big deal.

My own depiction of meeting Jesus... in the wind.

So after some prayer and thought, we decided to have an ‘Art Day’. We invited all the kids who were especially interested in art to come to school last Saturday for a special art project. Our theme was ‘Meeting Jesus’. R and I worked on our own art samples the previous week, to give them an idea of different way to express an idea, and different art methods. It was so calming to sit at the table for hours on free days, while it rained outside, or the world passed by, and work at making something beautiful.

Art Day was an awesome success! The kids were thrilled to have a day dedicated to art, and all the materials and encouragement they needed to make something beautiful. R gave them a short input about how God allows us to share in his creative nature through art, and how we should use it to glorify Him.


At the end of the morning, we allowed each student to pick two or three items from the art supply boxes to take home. They couldn’t contain their excitement. (When we said they could take three things, some of them thought that meant one colour pencil counted as one thing, and were overwhelmed when a whole pack of colour pencils counted as one thing.) It was a good day. We saw some beautiful works of art being created. We got to share with the kids something that has been a joy to both of us through our lives. And I got the chance to draw and sketch and colour and stick and CREATE to my heart’s content. I guess when I grew up, I DID become an artist.

Saturday, 7 January 2017

Being a Welcoming Church


Yesterday I was at Mass, and it was pretty crowded. First Friday of the month, and the year. As usual, I was attempting to pray, be aware of the mystery I was participating in, and Jesus' presence in the Blessed Sacrament while batting away distracting thoughts about my life, unfinished tasks, plans for the future, and my next meal. Yes, it's fun in my head.

It was the Communion Rite, and people were beginning to line up to receive Communion, when I suddenly noticed a couple of young men a few pews ahead of me. They had risen, but looked unsure of themselves as everyone else headed to the centre aisle.

"I guess they're not Christian." I thought. It was pretty obvious, and not uncommon for people of other faith backgrounds to visit the church, and to think that Holy Communion was the equivalent of prasad (a food item offered to idols during Hindu religious services, and eaten afterwards).

But Holy Communion is something quite different. We believe it is literally (and I do mean literally) the Body and Blood of Jesus, transformed from the bread offered by the priest, (because of Jesus' words in John 6 and the Last Supper and the witness of the early Church and the Church Fathers). So it's not just a sign of inclusion, but a sign of faith, and a sign of the communion that exists with Christ and between His followers. Anyway.

I had a brief moment of wondering if I should say something.  But then "Someone else will deal with it," I thought. "Maybe they'll sit back down. Or the priest will figure out they're not Christian, or something." It's too awkward to go up to people in the middle of Mass. So I just didn't.

But then they did join the Communion line. Would the priest figure it out? Maybe when the guys don't respond 'Amen' after he says 'The Body of Christ'? But no. One of the guys walked off holding the Communion Host in his hand, and the priest or the altar server called out to him. There was a stir, as the Communion line stopped, and everyone looked on. He stopped confused, then consumed the Host, and kept walking. The priest didn't see that, and as his friend followed, they called out to his friend to stop him. He stopped and tried to explain, while one of our volunteers in the front row tried to explain that he had already consumed it. Finally they both left.

SO. AWKWARD.

I don't blame them at all for walking straight out of the church instead of going to sit down again. And then I realized... how easily I could have changed that whole situation.

(Pause scene, screechy rewind sound and replay from the moment I notice the guys.)

Me (getting up and quietly approaching them): Hi, you guys are not Catholic, right?
Them: Er.. no.
Me: Okay, no problem, you're very welcome here. I just wanted to explain to you that only Catholics are supposed to receive Holy Communion. During this time you could stay in your seat and spend some time in prayer.
Them (apologetically): Oh sorry, we didn't know.
Me: No, no, that's fine. Many visitors don't know. But I'd be happy to answer any questions you have after the Mass is over.
Them: Thank you.

Pope Francis says in Joy of the Gospel:

The Church which “goes forth” is a community of missionary disciples who take the first step, who are involved and supportive, who bear fruit and rejoice. An evangelizing community knows that the Lord has taken the initiative, he has loved us first (cf. 1 Jn 4:19), and therefore we can move forward, boldly take the initiative, go out to others, seek those who have fallen away, stand at the crossroads and welcome the outcast. Such a community has an endless desire to show mercy, the fruit of its own experience of the power of the Father’s infinite mercy. Let us try a little harder to take the first step and to become involved.

Yup, let's do that.