Dying to Self

The deaconate ordination we had here in Makeni at Our Lady of Fatima Cathedral was pretty epic—2.5 hours running time, choir in full swing (switching between Mass parts sung in the local African dialect, heavy on the drums, and English songs such as ‘Here I am, Lord”), and Bishop Biguzzi giving an inspiring homily on the necessity of dying to ourselves to follow Christ. T

he Mass was exactly the same as it was in the States, and I was particularly blessed because they sat me in with the African seminarians. I didn’t have an alb to wear with them, but it’s not like it was going to help me blend in anyway.

Speaking of “dying to self,” I am finding two great obstacles here in this first week in Africa: (1) my inability to access the internet (and thus my family) anytime I desire, and (2) the reality that I will have to live caked in my own sweat for the duration of the time here. The priests’ house here has running water, but it doesn’t always work (such as both times I have attempted to shower). I also likely will only have access to the internet one or two times a week at very short intervals, and that’s if the connection works properly. My personal discomforts, combined with the Bishop’s homily, have prompted me to reflect about how much I took for granted while living on the Stateside.

Many of the people in this town don’t know the comforts that we possess, and somehow they are still happy…go figure. I have much to learn. Mary and Joseph didn’t live in an air-conditioned box with ready water flowing from the pipes, nor did St. Francis Xavier or St. John Vianney. Each of these individuals gave their lives to Christ just the same…even if they were surely physically ripe at times. Because I KNOW that I smell potent right now. I hope that’s not sacrilegious…all I’m saying is that St. Joseph was a man, and after a hard day’s work…well, yeah…he was a man. And we don’t always smell like Old Spice.

I don’t think I was prepared for the overall toll that living in Africa demanded. I guess the lack of amnesties present reveal perhaps the deeper expectations and habits (and internet addiction) I have come to develop. Christ came to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable, and I certainly believe that He is afflicting me (with good reason; without testing, we will never grow). I saw a sign around here that said, “Smooth seas do not make a good sailor.”

I feel that your prayers are with me, and I feel connected with you all in the Eucharist we share as one body across the globe. I know that if I give my time here to Christ, without holding back, He will do great things with such a spoiled and smelly servant.

-Bob
written 05/28