As I write these lines it is the feast of the Korean Martyrs.
Were I ever given to be despondent, which I am not, a reading of their story is always encouraging. The ever helpful Universalis says of this day, in part, “For centuries, Korea was closed to all outside influences, and all contact with foreigners was forbidden. No missionaries went there.
Nevertheless, a number of laypeople sought to find out all that they could about the outside world, through the annual embassy to Peking. Some books about Christianity fell into their hands, and they were converted.” For most of this period, the church in Korea had no priests and was an entirely lay phenomenon.
The first priest, a Frenchman, entered the country in 1836 and was beheaded three years later. Andrew Kim Taegon, the first Korean priest, secretly trained in Macao, entered Korea in 1845 and was executed in 1846, together with his father. A lay apostle, St Paul Chong Hasang, and many others perished at the same time.
A further major persecution occurred in 1866. In all, 103 of the Korean martyrs are celebrated today: they are mostly lay men and women: some married, some not; some old, some young, some even children. “The Korean Church is unique because it was founded entirely by laypeople. This fledgling Church, so young and yet so strong in faith, withstood wave after wave of fierce persecution. Thus, in less than a century, it could boast of 10,000 martyrs. The death of these many martyrs became the leaven of the Church and led to today’s splendid flowering of the Church in Korea. Even today their undying spirit sustains the Christians of the Church of Silence in the north of this tragically divided land.”– Pope John Paul II at the canonisation of the Korean Martyrs, May 6, 1984. I’M just old enough to remember having a small transistor set, which as far as I remember succeeded crystal sets. This was a small radio receiver where the wide world was beamed into one’s own living room. On the side there was a small wheel which allowed you to tune into a particular channel. This was not always easy and it depended upon the time of day and the kind of weather that was raging at the time. If you hadn’t correctly tuned in or the atmospheric conditions were a little tricky you got lots of static; the message was garbled. However if you hit the sweet spot the signal came in loud and clear. It seems to me that the Christian life is like this as well. In the 21st century, was it really any different in time past? It is certainly true that there is a lot of static noise around, that which results from improperly tuning in to the correct signal. So much so that at times we can be accustomed to listening to the static and not the signal; we can attach to the static more importance than to the signal itself. Sometimes of course, it can be important to listen to the static, for it provides us with a purifying, annoying desire to get to the full signal.
Nevertheless most times the static distracts, changes our focus onto the inconsequential, and takes precious time and resources away.
Recently, I celebrated confirmation in St Mary’s Church in Yarram for six young parishioners. In my trips to St Mary’s, I have been fascinated by the stained glass window which is the dominant feature on the Eastern end of the Church. After the recent confirmation I had a chance to look at it again. I say that I am ‘fascinated’ by it because this window has a particular style which is reminiscent of a mosaic. It is made up of many small pieces of stained glass.
In other words, it takes some time for the eye to adjust to the image and to form the pattern of what the image conveys. It is of the Holy Family. Unlike other depictions of the Holy Family which are generally set inside in a carpenters shop, this one is set outside, at one with nature. A quick look at this window does not suffi ce to immediately grasp what it’s saying to us, you have to stay with it. Further staying with the image you begin to see the child Jesus, in the centre of the window, holding something that has a rather iridescent orange color.
This is rather small thing and eventually the eye makes it easily to it. It is small bird, gently perched on the outstretched left hand of the child Jesus. It takes some looking and seeing and an effort to stay with it but the effort is generously rewarded. When next in Yarram, do call in; do say a prayer and do take time to contemplate the Holy Family of Yarram. Well that’s all very nice but what’s that go to do with the price of fish you might say? This time next year we shall have had our own Diocesan Assembly as part of the lead up to and preparation for the Plenary Council in 2020 and 2021. This is an important local event, and it will take place on September 13-14, 2019, mark your diaries. In some ways it will be more pertinent to the Diocese of Sale than other aspects of the Plenary Council process, for it will be our chance to help set the course of our decisions and planning for the years to come.
The open Book of Gospels was held over his head by deacons Mark Kelly and Tony Aspinall while Archbishop Hart read the prayer of ordination.
The sheer diversity of the Diocese of Sale is one of its strengths and challenges. How we create, foster and celebrate a deeper sense of the diocese has emerged as a recurring theme throughout the initial stages of consultation that have been carried out. The two above mentioned skills will be needed. In the first instance, we need to have the ability to listen to the signal and not be distracted by the static. We need to be able to discern what is static and what is signal, if we are to ‘listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches’. This has never been easy. It is the task of each of us who are baptised; it is the task of each family, which is the domestic Church; it is the task of each parish, it is the task of us as a diocese.
In the second instance we need to focus on the image that God presents before us, to take the time for the image to form and see more deeply the elements that are there. To give too casual or quick a glance at it risks not seeing it at all, or not seeing it properly. If we are listening not just to our voices and our hurts, as important as this rightly is, we often forget to make room for what God is saying to us. Both of these are important. We do not want to miss the signal by only listening to the static, we do not want to miss the small iridescent orange bird resting gently on the left hand of the child Jesus either. I encourage you to be part of your parish journey to the Plenary Council and our diocesan one. Later this month and in November, I shall be attending regional sessions as part of our next step.
Do come along. Remember, God is good, Good indeed.
- Bishop Pat O’Regan Bishop of Sale
