A vision of plenty in Carlton Gardens.
Deep in the dappled light
beauty spreads its way
in Carlton Gardens. Everywhere
the sun is bringing colour and liveliness
and flavour and joy—trees
bask gratefully in the embrace,
lovers take selfies on seats,
sunglasses on and happiness
abounding. Shadows recede
and an expanding thankfulness blesses all who
walk by the fountains, exhibiting signs of delight
on their faces, residue from the noonday sun
making their smiles radiant and unabashed. This
is abundance and fullness, an experience of wonder
and awe and all that is magnificent about day.
It seems everyone can have a sunny
Autumn day in Carlton Gardens —
leaves decomposing under foot, trading
shades of green for orange and gold.
The opulence of creation is here
for all to enjoy—the hungry and the satisfied,
the grateful and the worried alike.
Somewhere close by
a troubled man walks through the gardens,
unable to fathom the light that surrounds him,
so filled up with regret, riddled with loss,
and conscious only of the ground
beneath his feet, the Autumn leaves more copper than gold.
This one lonely man trudges through the gardens
his eyes downcast, and the lovers continue taking photos, the
trees continue their earnest embrace of sky
until their branches look on him with compassion
and drop leaves into his path. Noticing, and
overcome with the emotion of all he has been carrying,
our man finds himself weeping and
dropping to his knees and the leaves fold into love
before his eyes and the world resumes its colour,
and his loss, though terrible, now seems less consuming.
The brilliant light surrounds him and the lovers begin to notice:
the sun, this man on his knees, an abundance of leaves
falling like red tears
from the branches above.
In a moment, our man will rise,
pick up his crumpled bag
and walk to the other side of the gardens.
But for now something close to
joy moves within him —
fresh as wonder, dappled as light.
This time holds the potential to kickstart momentum for the years ahead. We have spiritual choices each day of the pandemic, the effects of which will multiply. There is great promise and challenge in the air. We do not know what the future holds, and yet we can do our best to shape the kind of world we want. The situation moves me to ponder …
Questions in a time of potential
Will we reach out with friendship and compassion
reverencing the experience of our neighbours?
Will we descend into pure self-interest
forgetting we are always interconnected?
Will we build justice for the discarded
and attend to the needs of this vulnerable planet?
Will we accelerate our insatiable consumption
forgetting the earth and those in need?
Will we lean into generosity and large-heartedness
pouring out our lives with gladness?
Will we shrivel up into mean-spiritedness
and avoid the call to relationship?
Will we listen to the call deep within us
tending our hopes and deep desires?
Will we give in to desolate disconnection
and baser tendencies toward despair?
Will we give thanks before the gathering of peoples
praising the God of all goodness?
Will we lose sight of all we have been given
and hide our face from the light?
This moment
This moment holds great promise:
in the gathering of our hopes
through the call we receive.
May we, in time, have cause for celebration.
This moment is a discovery:
new trials and joys
fresh opportunities for liveliness.
May we, in time, embrace this experience.
In this time of great change and challenge, as we stare down a pandemic, prayer seems all the more urgent and necessary. Many of us need God’s strength in these days. I believe that seeking God in prayer is indeed a more urgent longing than anything else. The God I long for is the One in whom I find comfort and consolation. This is a God in whom we can hope.
God of my longing
God of my longing, I wait on your movement within: draw me close to you lead me to rest in your embrace.
God of my longing,
I cry out for your presence:
make yourself known to me
grant me your compassion.
God of my longing,
I seek your peace in the quiet:
the embrace of your Spirit
the joy of your life.
God of my longing,
I believe your light is the true north star:
shine brightly in the night of darkness
be the guiding hope of this age.
God of my longing, I ask for your invitation today: send a new call to my ears give me the grace to respond.
Prayer and discernment
The inner encounter in daily life renews us for what we are to do. In calling on God’s name, and resting in God’s presence, prayer opens the heart to experience God moving within and among us. So it is that the door may open into a deeper peace and a renewed sense of hope – and other gifts from the giver.
It is on the days of distance that my heart expresses its deepest yearning. It is on the days of darkness that I seek the light with which to see. It is on the days of distress that my plea for comfort is heard.
We may in time notice a growing sense of ease in relating with God and an encouragement to keep going, both sure signs of God’s Spirit with us. We may also grow in our ability to recognise contrary movements for what they are – disturbances from the spirit of dis-ease and discouragement. Thus, we grow in our felt need for ‘discernment’ in daily life.
A prayer for these times
God of all goodness and consolation, be with our communities. Make us aware of your presence with us. Give each person the deep peace, comfort and patience needed to get through this time. Send life to our minds and joy to our hearts. May we see ourselves and each person as indeed precious in your eyes, honoured and loved (Isaiah 43:4). Send out your Spirit and renew the face of the earth. Amen.
CLC is a lay community and public world association of women and men shaped by the spirituality of St Ignatius of Loyola. It is a way of Christian life for people drawn to attend to the presence of God in their lives.
Until two years ago I had lived all my life in close quarters with family within the Greater Sydney area bound by the Blue Mountains and Bondi. When for several months I experienced a deep and returning desire to move to Melbourne, I discerned this as a divine invitation. I arrived in July 2016, turned 29, and began a Masters of Teaching at ACU.
I experienced a newfound freedom. I was blessed with my friends. But there were challenges, and I felt adrift. Thankfully, soon after arriving I was twice invited to go to a Christian Life Community (CLC) group for young-er people. On the second invitation I responded with a tentative yes – and one Wednesday evening in the Spring I arrived for a 7pm start.
Warm welcome
I discovered a group of some seven people, each from varied backgrounds and di[erent stages of life. I noticed a familiarity with one another, and a warm welcome for me the newcomer.
Soon I was introduced to a way of reflection and sharing which would make a lasting impression on me.
We begin by ‘checking in’ with how we come. We pray with Scripture and silence. We speak on how the prayer resonates with how we are each travelling personally. We listen attentively over two rounds of sharing. At the end of the meeting there is a ‘check out’ where again we name how we are.
In my first semester I studied for five Masters level subjects. I was flat-out, stressed, and fatigued. After a couple of fortnightly Wednesdays, CLC became a non-negotiable in my calendar. Each gathering was a safe resting place for my spirit.
I remember one night I turned up discouraged and tempted to despair. At the time I didn’t realise I was experiencing what St Ignatius of Loyola called ‘desolation’ (the felt absence of God). During the meeting this began to lift. I then noticed myself feeling renewed in the following days. In time I saw desolation as part of my journey to an Easter faith.
Pattern of sharing
Another evening we were reflecting on Pope Francis’ ecological encyclical Laudato Si’. Members spoke with an attentiveness to the land we live on and reflections on how we respond to people experiencing homelessness. The pattern of our sharing reminded me of the Pope’s line quoting Latin American theologian Leonardo Boff on hearing ‘the cry of the earth and the cry of the poor’. I found it incredible that within one meeting we heard those cries together.
Now I am coming up on two years with my CLC group. We have supported each other in tremendous loss and abundance. We have reflected on how we live our personal call. We have welcomed two newborns, and one has been to a meeting. We have participated in events with the wider Victorian, Australian, and global dimensions of our Christian Life Community. We are also prayerfully considering our response to Plenary Council 2020.
Belonging to a community
As I experience work beyond university, I take heart that I can continue to gather with my CLC group each fortnight. I am grateful to have a discerning community where I am held, lifted up, and reminded that I am both loved and called. Ultimately, I belong to a community alive to the call of Christ, generously responding in the particular situations of our personal lives, and coming together for inspiration and renewal.
The following is a general outline of a typical CLC meeting process.
Check in: In a period of silent reflection, members may share briefly an image, a word or a phrase describing how each comes to the meeting.
Prayer:Scripture/reading, extended silence, perhaps some music. Often has a theme.
Sharing on the prayer and/or review of life since last meeting:In a pattern of listening and discerning, each person present speaks without being interrupted.
Exchange:A second round where each is invited to respond to what someone has shared, further reflect on the theme of the meeting, or seek feedback from the community.
News from wider CLC:community business.
Evaluation or check out:Noticing how movements have shifted during the meeting.
Final prayer:Sent out with a prayer such as the Glory Be, Our Father, or Hail Mary.
A version of this article was first published in AusCaths magazine on 30 October 2018
A hopeful prayer-poem in the midst of the pandemic:
God of all days
These days of pandemic are weeks of separation
Build new stretches of community across our cities
Draw forth relationships of mutuality and care
Move families and friends to balm each other’s sorrow.
God of all days These days of pandemic are weeks of darkness Renew the earth with the pattern of your light Send new life to peoples, animals, plants, Give fresh vitality to the soil, the waters, the sky.
God of all days These days of pandemic are weeks of renewal Send forth your Spirit upon us Form steadfast hearts within us Beating at the sound of your voice.
God of all days These days of pandemic are weeks of challenge Be the guiding presence in our communities Be the animator of our plans Be the breath of our hopes.
God of all days
These days of pandemic are weeks of invitation
Call us close to your very self
Draw us into supporting each other
Bless us with light and life.
God of all days These days of pandemic are weeks of fear Tend our hopes with affection Walk with us in our darkness Speak words of comfort and peace.
God of all days
These days of pandemic are weeks of waiting
Draw us to your Word as consolation
Give us ears to listen deeply
Move songs of grief and love in our hearts.
God of all days These days of pandemic are weeks of upheaval Hear our deep desires Listen to our cries from the pit of frustration Resound new music on our lips.
God of all days These days of pandemic are weeks of quiet Give our streets a sense of calm Help our health workers in their time of need Guide our leaders to reflect on their experience.
God of all days These days of pandemic are weeks of mystery Unfold the grace of tranquility in our minds Unfurl the banners of your peace before the peoples Give us the means to glorify your name.
God of all days
These days of pandemic are weeks of insight
Transform our hearts with your presence
Grant grace and peace to our spirits
Send us out as servants, finding joy day by day.
Update: this poem was republished by CLC Philippines on 20 August 2020
These days are our preparation for a new world:
where solidarity shall flourish
where the land will overflow with honey
and the grass will sing with dew.
When the dawn announces such a day
the people will rejoice quietly
mourn the dead
pick up the pieces of existence
and work together to make real
a lasting city of peace
a radiant edifice for stewardship
of the land and all people.
The needy shall be first
and the music will draw forth dancing.
Every person will be free to delight
in the fruits of the earth
every child will hope
every grandma will give thanks
all the parliaments will announce a jubilee for the people
and all will remember
the ones who went before us,
the hospital workers,
the people who played their part.
We will savour life’s gifts
and never forget the violence of such a contagion
we will prepare for future calamity
and commit to care for the wounded.
We will begin our lives anew
keeping our groaning earth before our eyes
and coming to its aid.
We will bless the life we have been given
and reverence the people among whom we live.
We will reconcile with our rivals
and never forget that
we belong to each other
we are as strong as the weakest among us
we are the ones who will care for the land
and love one another.
We are the people about whom it is written
‘They shall be my people, and I shall be their God.’
I wrote this poem early on in the COVID19 pandemic as we experienced it in Australia: 24 March 2020. I couldn’t write with that urgent and ‘prophetic’ voice today; this second lockdown feels different to the first. That said, we can still reach for hope and encouragement.
A poem remembering a spiritual experience I had while on an overseas trip in early 2008:
On a tropical afternoon more than a decade ago I remember feeling a warmth rise within my chest, a fire burning. This experience consumed me with a sense of call. I woke with a new consciousness of being loved, and began walking with a profound sense of direction.
Malaysia, 2008
But I wanted more of that warmth, with its tender, blessed light. I sought its return, and, sometimes felt the heat moving deep in my heart. And following such persistent efforts, the experience was released— the fire had become smoke.
In the years that followed, I found new images for a vocabulary of encounter: water tumbling over rocks, mustard seeds, and fertile soil in which to grow. I was invited to rolling fields of conversation. In naming my experiences, I began to behold the embrace of the giver who kept sending sought and unsought gifts.
Sitting on my balcony one morning, sun hidden behind great Winter clouds, I felt fresh warmth resting within my lungs. I paused gently in stillness, breathing in all these memories breathing out appreciation rising to now write it all down.
The delegates to the CLC Asia Pacific Assembly, held in Seoul, Korea from 17 to 20 October, 2019, experienced a movement of the Holy Spirit as we communally discerned our response to the theme ‘Living Faith in the Crowd’.
Brought together as 36 delegates from 13 national communities in the region (Australia, Hong Kong, India, Indonesia, Japan, Korea, Macau, New Zealand, Philippines, Singapore, Sri Lanka, Taiwan, Vietnam), we felt a sense of family and communion as we prayed, discerned and dreamed together.
The new CLC Asia Pacific Animating Team of Agnes Shin (Korea), Gregorius Tjaidjadi (Indonesia), Jeraldine Ching (Philippines), Cosmas Tsao (Taiwan) and James O’Brien (Australia) with Fr Jeong Ho An SJ (Korea) and Fr Jun Nakai SJ (Japan).
CLC Korea offered attentive hospitality and the Asia Pacific Animating Team (of which Australian Michael Walker was a member) led the Assembly.
Christian Life Community
Christian Life Community is a world community of ordinary people who live out Ignatian spirituality and who thus act as close collaborators with the Society of Jesus. CLC is grateful for the support and friendship of the Jesuits in Australia and throughout the region.
In our Australian presentation our delegation was able to share with the delegates that within Australia the key CLC-Jesuit collaboration over the past 25 years has been the Jesuit Tertians-CLC retreats in rural and more isolated parts of the country. In recent years these have been First Spiritual Exercises retreats, through which many people have experienced significant graces for their lives.
The heart of the Christian Life Community is the local small community which meets regularly throughout the year. As a world community, however, there are global, Asia Pacific, Australian, and state-based dimensions to membership of CLC. It is experiences such as this Asia Pacific Assembly which reaffirm that we are in fact one community living out our spirituality on mission throughout the world.
Communal Discernment
‘Communal discernment’ was an important theme in the Assembly, both in response to socio-political situations and the needs of the universal Church. We desire to make this contribution to the needs of the world and the Church that labours for its good. In this we recognised that personal discernment needs to occur alongside communal discernment.
In our Ignatian spirituality we attend to the Holy Spirit bringing light to our experience. Through our Awareness Examen at the end of each day, we became more and more conscious of the Assembly as a Spirit-led experience.
Throughout the Assembly there were ‘open spaces’ for communal discernment bubbling up from among the delegates based on the needs we find in our national communities and local situations. We noticed that we desire to continue to serve among young people.
A Community of Collaboration
One common work for the CLC Asia Pacific community in recent years was contributing to the 2017 Asian Youth Day in Indonesia. An important grace we received from that experience is that we desire to encourage deeper and more regular collaboration and communication across and between CLC local and national communities. In both formal and organic ways, we want to work together.
On the final evening we celebrated each culture through songs and presentations from each national community. The Australian delegation of Michael Walker, Gaby Grimaldo, Ana Rita S. and I sang ‘I am, You Are, We Are Australian’. As we came to the end, the screen above us revealed that we had changed the final line to ‘I am, You Are, We Are CLC’.
This was an appropriate ending sung with joy by the entire crowd of Assembly delegates and participants of the accompanying Immersion Program’ for CLC members in the region.
New Animating Team elected
At the end of the Assembly, a new Animating Team was elected to serve the regional community for the next five years. The members of this team are Agnes Shin (Korea), Cosmas Tsao (Taiwan), Jeraldine Ching (Philippines), Gregorius Tjaidjadi (Indonesia) and James O’Brien (Australia). We invite your prayers for the new Animating Team.
Feeling sad at all the news, the havoc caused by the virus, I turn my eyes to the sunlight streaming in the window, stopping for a moment to enjoy its peaceful act of care for plants and people.
Photo by Claire O’Brien
Darkness
The destruction in Italy, the ten pages of obituaries in the Bergamo paper, creates a fear of what may become of my own locale, my family, friends and community seeming so fragile against the violence of the contagion.
Light
A friend calls. I’m self-isolating and he asks, ‘do you need me to get you some groceries?’ The question, so kind and thoughtful, returns me to that sense of belonging to a human family whose strength is the bonds of union between us.
Meditation
I sit in darkness, a single candle my source of light. Deep meditation gives me calm amidst all the upheaval of these days. I think on all the people in my life and my heart wishes each well: rivals, friends, neighbours, colleagues, siblings, parents and loved ones.
Candle with photos of family behind.
Action
My days are slowing down, and I am acting within the confines of the possible. My feet still long for running in the mud, rain on my face, wind at my back. For now, it’s physio exercises and sitting in the sun, getting my Vitamin D. I am being creative as best I can in these unsettled times.
Community
I see my friends by video calls and the connection gives me great joy. Within these walls I am going solo in a communal way, reaching out, reaching in, reaching peace.
Rest
I begin to sleep but remember my friend in distress. Having this virus is one thing, a physical illness, but the mental coping is a new experience for all of us. We must lean on each other, checking in to see how each is going.
Music
Music has a primal urgency now—as though it is heard anew by our ears. We play audience to orchestras in empty concert halls, our phones streaming the beauty to our living rooms. The enforced slowdown gets in the way of our regular rhythm, syncopating the beat of routine.
A Melbourne sunset photo I took earlier this year.
Invitation
The strangest thing has happened: even as the horizon seems ever darker, I take heart that the sun will rise in the East day by day, its light an invitation to hope.
