“Today is Christmas Day – What?”

By Fr Frans Mol, mhm

It was my first Christmas after ordination (1961) and I was with the Maasai people in Kenya. On Christmas Day, I was going to celebrate Mass with a group who had recently shown an interest in the Church. I carefully packed my Mass-Box with all things necessary, my chalice which dad and mum had given me, water in a small bottle, wine in a small bottle, communion hosts in a small box, books and vestments - every item carefully folded and packed in plastic bags to keep the dust out.

A fellow-priest drove me into the open plains and dropped me at a large tree. He then disappeared in a cloud of dust. On the tree hung a bell, the rusty wheel of a long lost car. I was told to hit that piece of iron as hard as I could and wait for things to happen. Under the tree, there were some homemade benches, fashioned from branches and pieces of wood; I sat down and waited patiently. After some time, a group of shy small children approached who, following the honourable Maasai custom stood before me with their bowed and shaven heads to wait for my greeting - the gentle touch of the hand in benediction and protection and love. Their not-soshy and curious mothers followed them. A few elders (older men), covered in heavy red blankets joined the group. They all sat down; the women and children were on one side, the elders somewhat at the back. I had my table neatly ready.

“Today”, I began solemnly, “today is Christmas Day”. Silence, until someone said: “What?” Somewhat taken aback, I continued courageously, “Today we celebrate the birth of Jesus”. Silence again, until someone said: “the birth of whom?” Then even the reverend celebrant fell silent. Silent night, holy night!

There and then I put all my Massbelongings neatly back in my MassBox, sat among them, took the translation of the day’s gospel and began to explain word by word about the child of Christmas, his dear mother, Saint Joseph and the shepherds. The last ones appealed to them because the Maasai themselves are a pastoral people, close to their animals. And so we sat together, a small group under a mighty tree, on Christmas Day at the foot of Kilimanjaro. We sat for a long time, sharing questions and answers.

A great sense of satisfaction, fulfilment and happiness came over me. Finally, I was busy with the work I wished to do but had so far really failed to put into action. The core of my vocation was to announce, to proclaim, to be a missionary. I thanked the Christmas Child for this insight and grace. Up to now, I had somehow tried to do pastoral work among people who neither belonged to a parish or to the Church for that matter. I wanted to give the sacraments to people who had not yet even received the first sacrament. I was fumbling around at the wrong end.

Suddenly, I felt very happy and at ease. I learned to understand that there is an essential difference between a missionary, priest or sister, brother or lay, and a simply ‘sacramental’ priesthood. Since then I have tried to remain faithful to my missionary vocation, applied myself to a better knowledge of the local language and regularly visited groups of people, sat with them and talked with them, made contacts to the enrichment of both parties. They taught me their language in all its beauty and expressions, their culture, their customs and way of life and especially their faith in one God. I tried to add all that was their own as yeast in my proclamation. I wanted Catholic Maasai, by which I mean Maasai who in the acceptance and the practice of the faith would

remain authentic and true Maasai. They would preserve whatever was good and beautiful and precious in their lives and culture, and where necessary would improve these through the insights and teachings of the Gospel. I rejoiced to learn afterwards that both Pope Paul VI and Pope John Paul II referred to this activity as pre-evangelisation and primary evangelisation.

God had already been for a long time at work among these people. Now was the time for them to become acquainted with Jesus, the Child of Christmas, the Teacher, the Redeemer and the Man of suffering.

(Fr Frans Mol is a Dutch Mill Hill priest, now retired. Over the years, we have had a number of his articles in the Advocate. He spent his missionary life with the Maasai people in Kenya. He worked closely with his good friend the late Fr Terry Gogarty, mhm, from Naas. This year Frans celebrated his Diamond (60 years) Jubilee. The very early experience described in this article influenced his approach to Missionary work for the rest of life.)

Deep peace of the quiet earth to you. Deep peace of the green fields to you. Deep peace of the shining stars to you. Deep peace of the quiet night to you. Deep peace of the gentle moon to you. Deep peace of the bright sun to you. Deep peace of the early dawn to you. Deep peace of twilight glow to you. Deep peace of the setting sun to you. Deep peace of the running wave to you. Deep peace of the flowing air to you.

Deep peace of the heart of Mary to you. Deep peace of the heart of Joseph to you. Deep peace of Christmas night to you. Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you.

Fr Sean O’Brien - Platinum

Fr Chris O’Connor - Platinum

Fr Kevin Reynolds - Golden

This year, the Irish Region has four Jubilarians: two Platinum (70 years) - Fr Seán O’Brien and Fr Chris O’Connor; one Golden - Fr Kevin Reynolds; one Silver - Fr Liam Cummins. Fr Chris is in a Nursing Home and Fr Liam is in England, so they were unable to attend but were acknowledged and prayed for at the Jubilee Mass. Normally, a number of family members of the Jubilarians are invited but for the first time in over 30 years we had no family members present because of the Covid-19 situation. Attendance was limited to our Mill Hill community and all present were fully vaccinated.

by Fr Kevin Reynolds, mhm

It is lovely to be here with you for this Jubilee Mass. On this Wednesday, July 21st, we are treated to a lovely passage from Matthew’s Gospel, the parable of the Sower. How appropriate for today. It is a coincidence! And coincidences are God’s way of being anonymous. Sowing the seed, - that is priesthood and that is our mission and ministry. prayer. And of course I am conscious that these seeds are shown in care, kindness and good neighbourliness - so much in evidence during the pandemic and lockdown. A true reflection of God’s love for us coming through others.

Baptism deserves special mention. That is when we became temples of God’s glory, filled with God’s grace; that is the beginning of the journey.

The seed of grace makes us graceful, gracious and courteous - so important in our mission and ministry, especially to the sick. I recall two lines from Hilaire Belloc’s poem entitled ‘Courtesy’: “And in my walks it seems to me that the grace of God is in courtesy.” And a few lines too from Tagore’s prayer: “O Lord when the heart is hard and parched up, come upon us with a shower of mercy; when grace is lost from life, come with a burst of song. When desire blinds the mind with delusion and dust, O come, Thou Holy One, come with your light and your thunder, come with your grace and truth.”

The seed of respect is very powerful. It is about recognising and acknowledging the human and Christian dignity of the other person who is created in God’s image and likeness. It is the reason why we can say that ‘you and I are God’s work of art’.

The seed of God’s forgiveness – where would we be without forgiveness that cleanses and liberates us? We must always remember that God’s forgiveness is unconditional. And still there is so much guilt and shame and remorse

Fr Kevin and Fr Sean cutting cake and earlier ready for Mass

The seeds for a life of faith, hope and love. I begin with mentioning what is obviously central to ministry and mission: planting the seeds of faith, hope and love - nurtured and enlivened by