Christmas – A Season to Celebrate Humanity

Fernando, R. (2022, January 1). Christmas: A season to celebrate humanity. Daily FT. https://www.ft.lk/harmony_page/Christmas-A-season-to- celebrate-humanity/10523-728471

Christmas – A Season to Celebrate Humanity

The word perahera often rings in us, Sri Lankans, the images of the traditional annual procession of the Temple of the Tooth in Kandy wherein an adorned tusker carries the sacred tooth relic of the Lord Buddha amidst an array of folklore dancers and performers. The Esala Perahera, the crème de la crème of Sri Lanka’s proud traditional heritage, is not just a mere procession. Rather it marks an auspicious season, a time of spiritual renewal and festivity. It is also the case with Christmas, the annual liturgical celebration of the first birth as well as the second coming of Christ, the promised messiah, according to Roman Catholic belief. 

To begin with, the perahera by and large consists of at least two key segments: the precursors and the arrival of the sacred relic on a venerated carrier. While the precursors announce the coming of the sacred one, prepare the way for Him, and adorn the path of His coming, the arrival of the sacred one is met with incessant worships, prostrations, and genuflexions by the onlookers, the faithful, the devotees, and the adherents. Likewise, the season of Christmas, liturgically speaking, could be articulated in terms of two key epochs, each with a key personality figure as the champion heralding a designated time: the time of advent and the time of Christmas.

John the Baptist and the Advent

Metaphorically speaking, just as the whip crackers, the fire dancers, and other traditional dances of the perahera prepare the way for the arrival of the holiest, John the Baptist, according to the Gospel narratives, is the precursor of the messiah to come. Living a hermit life, he had his raiment of camel’s hair, a leather girdle about his loins, and locusts and wild honey to feed on. He prepared the people to receive the promised one of whom the ancient prophets have foretold. While his preparatory speech was as fiery as ever, it is perhaps more relevant to our present-day context than it was then:  

When all the people asked him, ‘What must we do, then?’ He answered, ‘Anyone who has two tunics must share with one who has none, and anyone with something to eat must do the same.’ There were tax collectors, too, who came for baptism, and they said to John the Baptist, ‘Master, what must we do?’ He said to them, ‘Exact no more than the appointed rate.’ Some soldiers asked him in their turn, ‘What about us? What must we do?’ He said to them, ‘No intimidation! No extortion! Be content with your pay!’ (Luke 3:10-14, TJB)  

The greatness of this champion was that he understood his role in the plan of God’s salvation as a precursor and acted as much as it demanded of him, ever humanly, humbly, and authentically.  

Mary, the Mother of Christ, and Christmas

Just as a venerated tusker carries the relic of the most sacred one in the perahera, the coming of the most awaited time of Christmas is marked by another humblest of human beings, the mother of Jesus Christ. It is she who bore not only the hard truth of virginal birth, as is the Christian belief, at the annunciation but also the true fruit of it – the word-made flesh. The Lucan narrative is so candid in bringing about how God was so bent on receiving the consent of this lowly human being in His economy or plan of salvation: “Mary said, ‘You see before you the Lord’s servant, let it happen to me as you have said.’ And [then] the angel left her.” (Luke 1:38, TJB)

The birth of Christ and the celebration of humanity

True to its dogma, therefore, Christmas is a time for celebrating humanity. Because at Christmas we celebrate a fully divine and fully alive human being. It is indeed the good news of Christmas that this Christian God, if he had ever given up His Godself (divinity) to become anybody else other than God, then he had chosen to become only a human being. Moreover, the Christ thus came to us as one like us and one among us was not just a mere human, but a lowly human being, born of a humble and God-fearing young girl, in a manger, visited not only by the most excluded of the then society – the shepherds, but also the animals as well, adorned with gold, frankincense, and myrrh by the magi, and heralded by the angels in heaven. 

Accordingly, the birth of the historical Christ and His eschatological second coming celebrated at Christmas is nothing but a feast of our own humanity irrespective of all types of human-made differences that exist within us and among us to various degrees and intensity. 

The true spirit of Christmas, therefore, should not be lost or diluted in the glamour of decorations, partying, merrymaking, shopping, cakes, eating, and drinking, etc. Rather, it is a season of contemplation. It should be ideally used to reflect how well we have preserved our humanity and how divine we have tried to become in each passing year as a way of reciprocating the divinity spelled out through the Christmas festival. It thus demands an inward-looking ness into oneself, irrespective of whatever status or position one enjoys or desires to enjoy in life and career, and an authentic answer to the question, what must we do?

Given our own context today in Sri Lanka, where there is an increase in general strife of people, an impending shortage of food and supplies, augmenting strikes and protests across the island, what one should ask right now is how better one should become as a human being. One of the day-to-day measures of this humanity is the extent to which one shares what one knows and has with those who have less or do not have at all. 

It is because taking the very words of John the Baptist, God who always takes the side of the oppressed has “His winnowing-fan in his hand, to clear his threshing-floor and to gather the wheat into his barn, but the chaff he will burn in a fire that will never go out.” (Luke 3:17, TJB). The justice thus explained is even true for all the belief systems and religions that espouse the concept of God or Good and, therefore, the power of God or Goodness is always on the side of the righteous, the good, the just, and the oppressed.

To conclude, therefore, let us not wait until it becomes too late and the perahera is gone to take to heart and act upon the true meaning of Christmas. Neither let us take it as an annual celebration that passes by and wait for the next year to repeat the same, perhaps with increased expenditure and superficiality. Rather, let us act right now, while the season is on, dwell in the mystery of God becoming human, grow in the humanistic call of Christmas throughout the New Year, and be a humble beacon of humanity to the lives of all around us.  

Priestly Experience in Hingurakgoda, Sri Lanka

Fernando, R. (2021, December 18). Priestly experience in Hingurakgoda: Part II. Daily FT. https://www.ft.lk/harmony_page/Priestly- experience-in-Hingurakgoda-Part-II/10523-727751

Priestly Experience in Hingurakgoda, Sri Lanka

It brings always joy to recall my first-ever pastoral experience in Hingurakgoda church in the very first year of my priesthood. 

Upasaka Thaththa in Mission House

It was 16^th September 2017, the first day of my arrival at Christ the King Church, Hingurakgoda. The first sight I had ever had of the place elated my spirit in that pleasant morning. An elderly person dressed in a white sarong with absolutely nothing to cover his torso was sweeping the compound just the way I have seen it being done by the samaneras (novices) and monks in the temple with quiet composure, serenity, and art. “I was told about your coming, Father. Have you eaten?” was the first-ever welcoming words I heard of anybody of that place and I am happy that they came from that upasaka thaththa (worshipful elder) who had some drops of sweat on his chest while speaking to me. ‘Could there be any better way to welcome a stranger than inquiring whether or not he or she is full’, I wondered. 

This mature being whom I soon learned about as the cook of the lagum ge (mission house) was an unmarried elder in his late 60s who had once been a monk in his youth. It was a different joy altogether to share the space with him in the same lagum ge. He was more than a cook to me. There was hardly anybody in the whole of 550 odd families in that church who had not drunk a cup of tea or eaten a piece of biscuit that this person has offered, often against the rule of the Fathers, because the observation of one hour of fasting before the Holy Mass is encouraged for all Catholics as a preparation for receiving the most precious body and blood of Christ during the celebration of the Holy Eucharist. His justification for doing so, more sneakily than overtly, was as simple and humane as ever: “Where on earth do people go to temples and churches having had their full? They all come not only to fill their souls but also their bellies. Don’t they, Father?” I was dumbfounded at his human-centeredness and I had nothing more to say than to nod affirmatively, “Why not, thaththta!” It has often been noted that he was the first person, even before the priest, to visit whosoever he heard of been hospitalized in the village for one reason or another, be it a pregnant mother, a sick child, or an ailing elder, etc. regardless of his or her faith. All of these visits he made were never empty-handed. He made sure to fetch something or the other from the mission house to take to that sufferer, be it a towel, a packet of milk or biscuits, etc. 

This devoted elder died on the way to Ederamulla during the Christmas octave in 2017 as he was going to see his beloved babies of a Christian household where he had worked earlier. There too he was found carrying a box of Christmas edibles collected from the mission house to be given to that family. The scene created at his burial in Kegalle, the far interior of a rubber estate, should be recounted. There was an extra enthusiasm of the Hingurakgoda parishioners to participate in this virtuous being’s last rights. Upon arrival at the place, almost at the time for pansekule (final rights according to the Buddhist rituals), we found this upasaka thaththa, dressed in a white sarong and a white shirt, lying in a very ordinary coffin with hardly anybody to cry over his death. It was however difficult for the Hingurakgoda parishioners to hide their tears. The priests were the first ones to burst into tears no sooner than they saw their feeder. Then the congregation joined, and I saw those babies and their parents too (confirmation of which I had much later) weeping hideously. As we were about to depart, the key organizer of the funeral household approached me and asked: “Sir, nobody cried from our side over his death, but from the time you all came, you have been crying unceasingly. What has he done so much that all you feel for him so much? It wasn’t the time for a lengthy explanation of what this noble person has been and done to us. Nevertheless, he should be witnessed. Thus, recalling chapter 25 of St. Mathiew’s gospel, I said: “We were hungry, and he gave us to eat. We were thirsty, he gave us to drink. We were sick and hospitalized, and he came to see us”.

Christmas Carols in Bana Shalawa  

In the same year, the Hungurakgoda church had an issue finding a place to have its annual Christmas carols. The next-door school hall (as it had usually been done in the past) too had become a no-entry zone for us because of its preoccupation with the GCE O/L exam preparations. Christmas was approaching and the children in the church were getting ready for their big day of the year. It was during this time that I paid a visit to the Hingurakgoda Buddhist temple as it was customary for me to visit the chiefs of co-denominations at the locality wherever I am and serve during the time of Christmas. This, I believe, is something that my family upbringing has bestowed on me. It is because at home we have been trained from our childhood to share food with our neighbors irrespective of their faiths, religions, beliefs, etc. during the time of Christmas and the Sinhala Tamil New Year. In my conversation with the chief monk that day, it happened that the issue of the concert hall that the church was facing popped out of my mouth. “Don’t worry Father. You can come and have the concert in the bana shalawa (temple hall). And for your tea, I will arrange fish buns for everybody. How many of you?” I became speechless. 

With joy, I came back to the church and recounted the good news to the church congregation which felt relieved. But there was a concern. “Father, what about that huge Buddha statue kept on the stage of the bana shalawa?” asked a person of mixed marriage who was familiar with both the environments in the temple as well as in the church. “Will not Lord Buddha be happy to see our children singing, dancing, performing, and shouting on the stage?” I asked. “But Father, we have to make the crib there as well” another added. “True, we’ll make it. I think it’s not that Lord Buddha and Jesus cannot live together on the same platform. Rather, it is we who cannot see them living together, not only on the stage but also in our day-to-day lives”, I was determined. 

It wasn’t however the first encounter I have had with the chief monk of the Hingurakgoda temple. Before that day, we had several occasions frequenting each other, during the time of the annual temple perahara (street procession), Sinhala-Tamil New Year, Ayurudu Uthsawaya, etc. with mutual support, invitations, and reservations. To name a few, while it has been the tradition of the youth association of the church to organize a dansala (almsgiving) during the time of perahara and on the day of Wesak, during the year of my stay in Hingurakgoda, the same dansala was conducted, but differently, in the form of shramadana launched to plant flag poles along the main street of the perahara. This was also participated by the young novices of the Jesuit Order who happened to be in the church at that time for their pastoral experiment.  

Rice, Seasons, and Life

The agricultural landscape in Hingurakgoda in the ancient waw badi rajye (kingdom of tanks) of Rajarata is seasonal. However, these seasons I found were not according to how they are being considered in Europe, or America, or elsewhere in the world. Rather, they were based on the rhythm of the activities attached to people’s main occupation - rice cultivation. 

When the fields were getting ready for sawing, it is the season of hard labor, plowing, and tilling the ground which I would call the gray season after the color of the fields, the color of the plowed earth. During this season, it is often hard to find men regular in the church or the temple. Then comes the vegetative phase of the rice plants which, according to me, is the green season, again after the color of the fields. It involves relatively less labor and, hence, more time for one’s personal, familial, social, and worship activities such as Sunday Mass, temple rituals, etc. The following season, according to me, is the blue season characterized by the reproductive phase of the rice plants. It is blue because of the anxiety that the season brings in. People are anxious during this stage of farming as to whether or not the plants would open up, be attacked by the insects, be destroyed by the elephant, or be supported with enough and regular water supply, etc. In short, during this season, they are anxious about protecting what they have labored for and maximizing the gain. It has been my experience in the church that adults are often reluctant to commit themselves to common responsibilities during this season because they need time for themselves to deal with the anxieties of life. Finally comes the harvest time or the golden season, named once again after the very color of the fields. It is during this season that one generally sees many smiling faces, loud talking of people, the town becoming increasingly active, people getting organized, family events, communal functions, and village carnivals being organized, and the church and the temple getting crowded. 

Thus, the seasons of life associated with the rhythm of people’s major livelihood in Hingurakgoda have a direct and significant influence on their religious observances and adherence to faith-related activities, thus witnessing the age-old symbiotic system of living in Sri Lanka known as Gamai, Pansalai, Wewai, Dagabai (Village, Temple School, Tank, Shrine). It was indeed important for me to be aware of the dynamics of these seasons to understand why people in Hingurakgoda behaved the way they did whether in the church, or the temple, or elsewhere in the village. 

Finally, one of the unifying factors I have experienced among the people of Hingurakgoda is their augmenting willingness to coexist with other faiths within and outside the marriage which is nonetheless not without troubles altogether. While visiting families and attending the funerals of both Catholics as well as Buddhists of the place, I had ample opportunities to experience their harmonious living, collective struggles, difficulties, and pains, as well as joys in life. I still remember the day when the parishioners came to know about my living in the lagum ge without a cook after the sudden death of that upasaka thaththa. The ones who became increasingly troubled upon realizing it, if I am not mistaken, were those in mixed marriages who got themselves hurriedly organized to bring meals to the church as it is been done in the temple by way of giving alms to saffron bearers who have voluntarily chosen the path to nibbana (enlightenment). 

"Don't cast your pearls before swine"

Fernando, R. (2021, December 13). The pigs, the dogs, and the pearl of the Indian ocean. The Morning. https://www.themorning.lk/articles/179002

Fernando, R. (2021, December 9). What to do with the pearl, the pigs & the dogs, my dear citizens? Colombo Telegraph. Fernando, R. (2021, December 9). What to do with the pearl, the pigs & the dogs, my dear citizens? Colombo Telegraph. https://www.colombotelegraph.com/index.php/what-to-do-with-the-pearl-the-pigs-the-dogs-my-dear-citizens/

"Don't Cast Your Pearls Before Swine"

    Recently, I have been encountering people who seem to share one common feeling towards the current situation of the Pearl of the Indian Ocean, Sri Lanka. Among them are highly learned personnel, university professors, senior lecturers, administrators, teachers, religious leaders, social analysts, thinkers, friends, and colleagues. All of them seem to be hinting quite overtly at one and the same thing: ‘This country is gone to the dogs. There is no way out. They ruin it and eat it up, the dirty pigs.’ It is this common opinion that reminds me of the proverb, “Don’t cast your pearls before swine” which has its origin in the Gospel of Mathew in the New Testament of the Bible, “Give not that which is holy unto dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine…” (Mathew 7:6, KJV).

    Even though such a gem of wisdom has been passed on to us for 2000 odd years, one could possibly argue that the truth of this wise saying is more justified today especially when it is seen against Sri Lanka in the current geopolitical contextual backdrop, than whatever may have been its original cause in history. It is needless, however, to cite examples here to substantiate this claim for two reasons: Firstly, because they are being rigorously and vehemently exposed and analyzed by the country’s popular media 24 X 7; secondly, because any such effort to replicate them here could and would definitely be looked at through colored glasses as catering (kade yanawa) to some vested interest or other. For better or for worse, it is, in fact, the bitter truth that almost all the news providers in the country today, be it TV Channels, Print Media, or Social Media, have their own agendas.

    The points of this essay, therefore, are the following four assumptions which are taken for granted as factual. 1) There is a famous country known as the Pearl of the Indian Ocean. 2) It is thrown. 3) It is thrown to the pigs. 4)It is gone to the dogs. What shall we do, then? It is indeed the main purpose of this essay. What shall we do with Sri Lanka, the Peal of the Indian Ocean, thrown to the pigs and gone to the dogs? This is perhaps the question that practically every intelligent Sri Lankan living in this country or outside it is asking at this moment in history. 

    Answering this question needs an explanation and it could be done better by understanding the following scenario. One day a motivational speaker asks the audience the following question after showing them a five-thousand-rupee note. Who wants this? Understandably, all the hands show up. Then, for the second time, he crunches the note in his hand and asked the same question again. Who wants this note, now? Once again, all the hands show up as quickly as possible. Then, for the third time, he tramples the note under his foot and asks the same question once again. Now, who wants this note? Still, almost all the hands show up except for a few indecisive ones raised reluctantly halfway through. Then, for the last time, the speaker shreds the note into pieces and asks the same question again. Well, who wants it, now? All the hands which were very enthusiastic till that moment drop lifeless as the audience sinks back in their seats in dismay. While many start murmuring against the speaker, a courageous few vent their frustration out aloud spontaneously. Is it not the fate of the Pearl of the Indian Ocean thrown to the pigs and gone to the dogs at this moment in its history?

    It is commonly known that pearls, as they are precious, should be given to those who know their worth and appreciate their beauty. By throwing them to the pigs instead, we not only devalue the pearls but we neither enhance the value of the pigs. For the pigs do not use them for the right purpose they are meant to be used for. However, there is something more here that we often miss as in the case of the five thousand rupee note of the motivational speaker. That is, no matter whether it is thrown to the pigs or trampled upon or muddied with dirt, the pearls always remain pearls until their pearliness is ruined and robbed. Imagine for a second; supposing actually you see a pearl thrown to the pigs. Do you not pick it up even if it happens to be in the dirtiest place of the piggery? Likewise, it should be kept in mind that no matter how precious are the pearls that are thrown at the pigs, the pigs always remain pigs. Think for a second again; if you find a pearl under the foot of a pig, do you carry that pig in your arms, pet it, and put it on your pillow? I am afraid, not! Rather, one would perhaps barbeque the pig to celebrate the joy of finding a pearl.

    There is another aspect here we often tend to overlook. I believe a better understanding of it would definitely lead people towards certain progressive measures needed to be taken concerning these two areas: 1) A thorough cleaning of the pearls found in the piggery to re-establish their original beauty;  2) Right barbequing the pigs to satisfy one’s desired taste. It is important therefore to understand that neither the pearls nor the pigs change their nature from being pearls or pigs as the giving-up of the pearliness or the pigginess is impossible. It is a sure impossibility because the moment they manage to do so they cease to be pearls or pigs and the entire initial proposition becomes invalid. What is needed therefore is to understand that none of them, neither the pearls nor the pigs, are the doers of the action. Rather it is a third party who is the agent who decides either to throw the pearls to the pigs or to make a necklace out of them. Or having found the pearls under the feet of the pigs, either to leave them there or to pick them up and cleanse them. Or, having collected the pearls, either to pet the pigs in the bedroom or to have them barbequed in celebration of the pearls found. It is the same when it comes to the Pearl of the Indian Ocean, the nation of Sri Lanka as well.

    Unless this third party makes its decision about the Pearl wisely, correctly, and quickly, the Pearl risks being shifted from ‘thrown to the pigs’ to ‘gone to the dogs’. Either way, the Pearl will always remain a pearl but in a place where it does not belong, in the piggery or in the kennel.

Passing Last Days of Another Pioneering Jesuit...

 

Ignatian Year Jubilee Song

For the occasion of 500 years of conversion (1521-2021) of St. Ignatius of Loyola, the Founder of the Society of Jesus (Jesuits)

Ignatian Year Jubilee Song

Friends in the Lord we’ve come beneath thy banner Quincentenary of your fall so blessed You’re our inspiration, our Founder, Holy Father Saint Ignatius, we hail... All anew in Christ, you saw upon your cannoned knee Willed for things of higher with your heart on fire To serve God and His people for His Greater Glory Saint Ignatius, we hail... Loyal to our roots and treasures you’ve imparted Nobler, humbler, stronger we grow with life’s trials Purer keep our souls to make the Heaven surer Saint Ignatius, we hail... Lyrics and Melody by Fr. Rashmi M. Fernando, SJ Sung By Jesuit Candidates 2021 Music by Asela P. Fernando Digital Mixing & Mastering by Amila Dilhan (A3 Life Recording Studio) Visuals by Dimanthinie De Silva

Crucial Conversations

Fernando, R. (2021, February). Crucial conversations. In V. Jadav (Ed.), Jivan, News and views of Jesuits in India: Go, set the web on fire! (p.28). 

 Crucial Conversations

        Freedom with responsibility is how the vow of obedience makes sense to me as a Jesuit, 16 years in the vocation and 3 years to the Priesthood. No matter what the responsibility rested on me thus far, while the aspect of inner freedom of the obedience I seek and enjoy the most, the responsibility part of it makes me accountable to my Superiors and, through them, to the universal Church at large, in all I say and do in my life-mission as a Jesuit priest. It is nevertheless this freedom with responsibility which for me makes the vow of obedience either our way or a limit of exercising my fullest self in freedom. Let me explain. 

        The Ignatian spirituality and formation right from my Novitiate have disciplined me to look to the Person of my superior not as a human being, subject to errors and miseries, but as the Christ who is supremely good, all-knowing, and faultless. Moreover, I should always be prepared and quick to do so when it is needed to seek out reasons to defend what the superior commands or is inclined towards, rather than reasoning out against to disapprove of it. This points towards the common Ignatian understanding that whatever the superior enjoins is the command of God and His holy will which should be executed blindly and without any inquiry, but with the force and promptitude of the will, eager to obey. 

        When trying to see that invisible God of my faith and His holy will in my Superior whom I daily see fully flesh and fully alive (or do not do so that often) in corridors and common places in my community; when the Superior has little or absolutely no time to listen to his subject; or even at the tiniest of the time found, the apprehension of the gravity, the depth, and the importance of the issue shared, the understanding of the emotions and the affects that the subject undergoes, the active listening and the personal empathy, etc. do not seem to evoke from the part of the superior; when the confidentiality is ruptured and/or related comments are passed at common forums in the community; when the workaholism of the Superior esteems little or no freedom of the subject whatsoever, rather it curtails the latter’s time for self, socialization, etc.; it is often in such instances that the crucial conversation had meaning and is felt very much a necessity in my vocation as a Jesuit. To see God and His holy will in such instances becomes not only an internal struggle against the image of God of my faith but also the obedience in executing the entrusted mission under such circumstances often making it more functional, limited, and heady rather than charitable, bountiful, and hearty.