A Sunday of Miracles

Sunday, 23rd

For our first Sunday in Uganda, Fr. Michael has invited us to his parish for a celebration.  There are several boarding schools sending representatives to his parish to show their love and support for all that Father is doing.  All we were told is that there will be a lot of youth there visiting the parish, and that it was a great honor, and a blessing from God to have those children travel from so far away, with so many important representatives and heads of school.

We were late, as always, and there is nothing that you can ever do about it – between the rain, and potholes, and mud pits, and broken down cars and our own flat tire, there is little that can be done.  When we arrived at the church, it so completely full, the priests and school dignitaries were outside awaiting our arrival, and the marching band was beginning to perform the entrance processional.  We literally had to hop out of the car, grab Michael and were shown seats up on the outskirts of the altar, across from the dignitaries, with the priests at the head of the altar.  It was embarrassing and we were so unworthy, having done nothing for the parish but simply show up and show interest in their lives and work.

We were seated in chairs (Paul, Anthony, Grace and I with Benny Michael) but in front of us was a tiny sea of little brown faces and huge white eyes.  There must have been 30 children on the steps of the altar because there was no other place for them to sit, it was completely full in the Church, and moms with tired babies were already outside in the sun on blankets listening to Father over speakers run by car batteries.  And when I say that the Church was full, don’t think for a second that it is a small Church.  It is so large in fact, that Idi Amin was flying overhead and saw the church and he asked who lives there, because whoever lives there must be very wealthy and therefore must have great power.  Upon landing, he immediately summoned the owner of the large building to him, so the pastor left the Church and headed to the Capital.  And there, he was executed for being a threat to Amin’s power and control.  Rather, he just disappeared, never to be heard from again, the same fate as thousands of people during his reign of terror. 

During the Mass, the children pressed against the legs of Paul and I fighting over who could sit closest.  I had a head on my thigh, an arm on my knee.  I had a girl who kept trying to rub my toe nail polish to see if it would come off on her fingers.  They would stroke or pull my hair to see if it was real, touch my skin to see if I was painted.  They would try to see if they could catch our attention with winks and smiles and whispers all throughout the Mass.  And the Mass itself was amazing.  Father Michael had a wonderful homily as always.

Father Michael is very much a priest for the people.  He is a pastor, but understands that the only way to get your parish to grow and expand is to be welcoming and inviting to the people around you, no matter what parish they go to.  People know they have options, so if you are going to try and close your doors, or not be welcoming or inviting or kind to guests, then you insult them and Christ in them.  Jesus, the pastor of the ENTIRE church did not go around saying, “Where are you from? Oh, not from Bethlehem, then I cannot serve you, today, I will see you next week when I am there.”  Father always tries to meet the needs of every Catholic, where they are at.

If we were perfect, if we had all of the answers, if we had everything sorted out in our uncomplicated and peaceful lives, then we would not need Him.  But we are not perfect, or simple, or have things easy, so we need Him and the Church’s love and guidance and support on our level.  Our Church, as the Spouse of Christ, should call out to us, yearn for us, and desire our participation in it and in return we find Christ in the Church, have our needs met, and share the joy we have found.  We each have a hole in us, and we need to fill it with something. “My heart shall not rest, until it rests in You…”  We will search for that something until the hole is filled.  Should our Church, and our Savior, be what we fill our hearts and holes with?  Then make your church a welcoming place, open your hearts to what it has to offer, and be ready to celebrate Mass and Jesus with every part of yourself.  Once you find that peace of Christ, work hard at maintaining it, and be an example to those looking for a place to find rest and peace and then be filled with His compassion. 

The compassion of Christ in our hearts is what drives people to love and serve God.  Do men often feel like they have too much money, and then start giving it away?  No, men are never filled or feel satisfied, which is why you must make the choice to serve God and His people and His Church, right now, no matter how much you have or how big your house is, or how big your bank account is.  No matter how little you have, or how much you have, you must decide to serve God, and make the sacrifices that are asked of you. 

When you feel the satisfaction and fulfillment that comes when you serve God, you will become addicted, and your hearts will be filled with Joy. Oh, and that Joy is like a virus, it is contagious and spreads like a wild fire.  And that Joy is what is filling his Church, and bringing people back into the pews, and causing people to cook and clean and prepare such a wonderful feast for everyone today, and what has caused several hundred youth and their head masters to come all the way out to this small parish, and donate almost 10 million schillings to the Church’s pew rebuilding fund.  That joy is what led the head masters to give two 4 year, full ride scholarships to the top two students of Fr. Michael’s choosing from his parish, for secondary school (like middle and high school). Not only 2 this past year, but two more for next year.  Can you imagine, someone brings Christ to people in such a dynamic spirit filled way, that they repay him for his impact and his faith, by giving 4 students from a tiny, very poor village school the opportunity to have an education free of charge for 4 years.  That is a million dollar lottery ticket in the US. Oh the things I take for granted.

It was beautiful, and inspiring, but it was not my favorite part.  My favorite part was the rows of village children who had just received communion.  I loved seeing these children and their humility so much that I started practicing this tiny little act when I came home from Uganda last year.  The children, upon receiving communion, go to their pews, and place their hands directly over their faces for quite some time.  I love this.  When I come back from communion, my focus should be on Christ, alive in me – it should not be on the people walking by, making eye contact with friends, checking out what is going on around me.  I have begun putting my finger tips on my forehead, , my thumbs on my jawline and spreading my palms into a triangle, blocking out every distraction so that I can focus on my conversation with and my adoration of Christ in me.  It is freeing, and beautiful – what the children can teach these old people – their faiths and their love so untainted and pure.

There were hours of speeches, literally hours, when school officials would come present Father with checks of donation from their school.  One of the presenters, in particular, I liked.  He went up to the podium and addressed the crowd in Lugandan, but part f the way through turned to Paul and I and said, “Now you go to America, and you tell everyone you know that we are not black.  I am tired of going to America, and having people say that I am black.  Oh no, Ugandans are not black, look at us, we are delicious in color, we are dark and rich and beautiful chocolate.  That little child needs to remember that he is not black, he is not African.  He is chocolate, he is Ugandan.

At the end of Mass, a woman was called to the podium to tell her story, a story I had recently heard from some sisters who live on the church grounds. I had wondered how much of it was true, but maybe seeing is believing.  You decide. 

It all begins when Fr. Michael came to his little parish in August, there were very few people coming for a village of that size.  Witch craft, and voodoo believers are everywhere in the outskirts of the main towns and cities, so he knew what to expect.  Father came armed with a statue of Our Lady of Fatima, given to him by a fellow priest friend.  Father began praying about his little parish and decided that they would have weekly prayer in front of the Blessed Sacrament, for people to come and pray all day and night for their needs.  It started very small maybe 10 or 12 people.  Father would go and pray his rosary and ask Our Lady to go to our Heavenly Father on our behalf and bring our petitions to Him.

The more he prayed, and preached, the more that people come.  Someone came to him and told him of a woman who had been in a car accident 10 years ago, and was bed ridden, and had not gotten up or left the house during that whole time.  Father prayed and asked for guidance, and decided that he was going to pray for 40 days and nights for this woman, a rosary novena every day.  On the 39^th day, the woman said, that she was asleep, and she heard a very sweet voice say, “Get up, your Father in heaven has healed you.” And so she got up, and three months later, with all of her friends crying in the front pews of the Church, the friend that they had loved and watched and cared for and prayed for stood and preached about the love of God and the healing he brings.  And except for a limp, you never would have known that she had been so seriously injured for so long.

Mass ended shortly after that, a total of 5.5 hours later.  Yes, I said that we were in Mass for 5 ½ hours.  And because it ended with the testimony of healing and miracles, that was the topic on everyone’s mind when another miracle story, that I had also heard from a different source, began being discussed.  There had been a young child who had been afflicted with illness for a long time, so her parents took her to a village witch doctor to find a cure.  But instead, huge thorns began coming out from under her skin on her arm.  The parents took her to city doctors, and could not find an answer or a cure for her and the excruciating pain that she felt when one was present.  One doctor pulled out 45 thorns, 2-3” in length, and documented the case in great length.  Her parents were overcome with frustration to they came to the parish priest.  Father Michael brought her in and everyone prayed for her, and then Father began a 9 day novena for her. On the last day, a thorn as removed, and none took its place in her arm, and on this day, the long scar is gone.

The faith of the people in the village is growing now.  If people want to speak with Father Michael for counseling about whatever ails them or their families, they have to go to all night adoration on Tuesdays, and then you can have an appointment.  These village people walk miles, in the rain and mud and heat, with breakfast and a sleep mat on their backs, to spend all night talking to Jesus.  Where there was once 10-12, there is 75-100 in Mary’s chapel.  People have begun turning over their juju, their idols, and their “medicines” prescribed by the witch doctors or voodoo leaders, now stored in a box in the sacristy at the Church, in order to have everything burned at the Easter Vigil.

All of these things are beautiful, and very telling of the type of community that Father Michael is trying to raise up in this part of Uganda.

Notes from my prayer journal:  If I believe that I am on the path of His choosing, then I need to believe that I am there for a reason, that His grace will be given to fill in my many deficits, and that I will not be torn asunder unless that is His plan for my attaining my everlasting salvation.  In which case, I would have to respond to the pain, mental, emotional, or physical, by saying, “Bring it on.”

“We are assured and know that God is in all things, and all things work together for the good of those who love God and that all are called according to His design and purpose.”

-Romans 8:28

Soundtrack Song of the day:  Lord I need You – Matt Maher

Consecration to Jesus through the Immaculate Heart of Mary,  DeMontfort's Consecration, part 2, Day 4