Rice Media speaks with Friar Aiden Peter, OFM as well as Bishop Terry Kee, Vice President of the National Council of Churches of Singapore, to learn more about the use and history of religious items in Catholicism and Protestantism, respectively.
The road to eternity can be hazardous and long. Our lives are fraught with challenges and anxieties, and we live in a world today that is in crisis. A pandemic has swept over the world with the death toll rising each day. Scientists warn that climate change will have increasingly devastating effects, not least of which are rising temperatures and rising sea levels. The arms race continues relentlessly, with more and more money spent on technologies that kill and destroy, while millions of people remain mired in poverty.
“Yes, the road to eternity is a long and hazardous one. But … what if we think of the journey rather than the road? What if we think of life as a pilgrimage?”
– Friar Clifford Augustine
A pilgrimage has the intention of gaining something of spiritual value, even in difficult situations. While a pilgrimage can be made to a particular destination, the journey itself fosters spiritual awareness and growth. Often the pilgrim’s relationship with God takes on new meaning during the pilgrimage.
As Christians, eternity is our destination, and our life on earth is our pilgrimage towards it. As we face the difficulties and challenges in our lives, we would do well to look for the moments that lead to spiritual deepening.
I admit I am not a fan of pilgrimages. They are sometimes veiled sightseeing tours or opportunities to travel to other places and accumulate souvenirs that lie in cupboards and drawers thereafter.
A Camino – or the “Way” – is different. This is a walk to hear the desires of our hearts and to listen to the voice of God.
The first camino I did was not the more famous Santiago de Compostela. I did the Via de Francesco, or the St Francis Way.
This camino is a walk around the places where St Francis of Assisi lived. We walked the paths that Francis took, visited the places where he encountered the supreme love of God that left him in awe and wonder. The basilicas, cathedrals, churches and other places where Francis roamed were interesting places, yes, but they were also places where we ourselves encountered God. Instead of simply absorbing interesting facts of buildings, architecture and art, we saw the stones and handwork of artists as the telling of the faith story of a man whose encounter with God was so powerful and real.
Visiting the historical places of St Francis and St Clare prepared us for the camino of our lives. In Assisi, we immersed ourselves in the spirituality of the two saints and found ourselves yearning for more. After familiarising ourselves with the historical contexts of the cradle of Franciscan spirituality, we needed to find our own journeys. The camino provided us with the landscape to do just that.
We each had our own story with God, and these sacred stories came alive during the camino. Walking in nature’s cathedral – the forest – we simply marvelled at the footprints of God. Everything of the grandeur of God spoke to us.
One of the most memorable places on the Via de Francesco is Poggio Bustone, where Francis began his mission of peace. The place is surrounded by verdant woods and looks out onto a mystical panorama.
On one of the trips to that town, the other pilgrims and I made our way up to the upper hermitage via a steep hill. It was supposed to take only 30 minutes, but it rained so heavily that we struggled to walk up. I remember feeling very irritated and angry, and even regretting being there. But there was no going back. The only way to find some respite from the storm was to keep moving towards our destination.
After what felt like an endless gruelling walk uphill, we finally reached the sanctuary for the Eucharist. We were tired and drenched. During the celebration
of the Eucharist, I remembered that this was where St Francis had had his vision of the total remission of his past sins. It made me realise that our pilgrimage on earth can sometimes feel like walking up a steep hill in the rain, with many obstacles, especially our struggles with sin. The Eucharist assures us of the absolute and total forgiveness of sins always offered to us by our God.
When the camino ended, we made our way to the Basilica of St Anthony at Padua. Here, I have another admission to make: I did not find the relics and the magnificent building particularly spiritually inspiring. It was yet another box I could tick off, another place visited.
St Anthony himself, however, has always been a spiritual inspiration for me. Growing up in a Catholic family, I was taught that he would find lost things for us, including faith. But the saint is so much more than a miracle worker. His humility, joy, simplicity and great love for the poor and for God continue to inspire me to live a Franciscan life that is lean and free of clutter. St Anthony’s pilgrimage on earth was one that brought, and continues to bring, many people to God. I am one of these. Inspired by St Anthony, I know my pilgrimage of life on earth must be one of reaching out to the poor and the marginalised, and of creating a society that includes rather than ostracises.
The restrictions on travel because of the pandemic present an opportunity for us to review our lives. If we think of life as a pilgrimage, we can begin the camino into ourselves and the deep recesses of our mind and soul. If we embrace the encounters on this very personal camino, we will reach our destination spiritually enriched.
Friar Clifford Augustine OFM
St Anthony’s Bread traditionally refers to loaves of bread blessed and shared in honour of St Anthony, and to alms given to the poor in thanksgiving for blessings received through the prayers of St Anthony.
One legend dates back to the year 1263, when a child drowned near the Paduan Basilica of St Anthony during its construction. The child’s mother prayed to the saint to bring her boy back to life. In return, she promised to give to the poor an amount of corn equal to the child’s weight. When the child was miraculously revived, the mother made good on her promise.
Centuries later, in 1888, a woman named Louise Bouffier, who managed a small bakery in the seaside village of Toulon, France, found she could not open the door with her key. Neither could a locksmith, who told her that he would have to break the door open. While he went to get his tools, Louise prayed to St Anthony that she would give some of her bakery’s bread to the poor if the door could be opened without force. When the locksmith returned, he tried the lock again and was easily able to let Louise in. True to her word, Louise made sure that the poor of Toulon received their due.
Before long, Louise’s friends began to follow her example of promising a gift of bread or alms to the poor in return for prayers answered by the intercession of St Anthony. In the 1890s, they formalised this practice by founding a charity called “St Anthony’s Bread”.
In the spirit of this charity, some parishes bless and distribute small loaves of bread on 13 June, his feast day.
If you are making bread for the poor, or to share with family and friends, here is a prayer you can use from the Franciscan liturgical books.
Heavenly Father, we praise you and give you glory for the gift of bread, fruit of the earth, work of human hands and source of our daily nourishment.
Bless + this bread in honour of St Anthony. Teach us to share all your gifts with the poor, the forsaken and the hungry.
All praise be to you through Jesus Christ, our Saviour, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Adapted from faithmag.com/legend-st-anthonys-bread
Many years ago now, during my first visit to Assisi, I found by chance a book written by Italian poet and artist Umberto Verdirosi entitled “Behind the Canvas”.
On one page, entitled “Il povero cristo” in Italian and “The encounter” in English, is a painting of a vagabond wearing a red scarf standing before the Crucified Jesus who wears asimilar red scarf around his own waist. The accompanying poem, which begins with “Non parlare, guarda!”, reads in English:
“Speak not, behold! Illuminated by Light Divine, in twain they are today. As if to say that Christ’s cross is known as Man. After his long trek the Eternal Child is destitute of all except a scarf he kept in token of his faith.”
Francis of Assisi was a simple person who understood things as he saw and experienced them. Initially, he saw the Passion of Jesus as mere human suffering and pain, and hence he thought that his body needed to be constantly tamed and purged. But as he grew in the Spirit, Francis began to see and experience Jesus’ Passion (and the Cross) in a different light. He began seeking to imitate Jesus’ Passion in the light of God’s love, and found this when he received the stigmata at La Verna. For Francis, this was the lesson of the Cross and the Passion of Jesus.
As I step into the liturgical season of Lent and into Easter, I cannot help but ask myself what do I “Non parlare, guarda! – Speak not, behold!” of Jesus’ Passion and of my own passion?
It is easy to speak of Jesus’ Passion and my passion from the perspective of pain and suffering. Yet when I behold the Crucified Jesus, I see God as one who does not just love, but who also carries and embraces my passion. It is this love that brings forth hope to Easter and everyday life. Thus, I am able to see and experience my passion as moments of joy, peace and goodness.
On another page of Verdirosi’s book is a painting of Francis before the Crucified Jesus. The accompanying poem begins with “C’era una volta un uomo innamorata dell’amore”, in English “Once upon a time there was a man who fell in love with love itself”.
“Fell in love with love itself” is what Lent to Easter is. What conversion is. What the Passion and Cross of Jesus are. And what and who St Francis of Assisi and being a Franciscan are.
In the following of Francis’ spirituality, the challenge that is always before me and you is to discern what it means to embrace Jesus, his Passion and Cross. This will not be easy but we can do it if we are optimistic and hopeful.
Friar Michael Goh, OFM
Rising sea levels. Droughts. Floods. Disrupted food supply. The severity and urgency of climate change is upon us. Yet, do we see the need for change in our lifestyle, the way we produce and consume? Pope Francis, in his encyclical Laudato si‘, calls all of us to take “swift and unified global action”. But is Laudato si’ just about climate change and ecological issues? How about integral ecology? If we look deeper, “ultimately what kind of world do we want to leave behind, in terms of its general direction, its meaning and its values? We need to see that what is at stake is our own dignity.”
Join the speakers as they share their own personal experiences and the teachings of the Catholic Church on how we can change our imminent future – not just the climate, but the world we live in.
Speakers:
Friar Derrick Yap, Custos for the Custody of St Anthony (Malaysia–Singapore–Brunei)
Joseph Teo, Singapore’s Chief Negotiator for Climate Change, Ministry of Sustainability and the Environment
Wilson Ang, Founding President, Environmental Challenge Organisation (Singapore)
Mark Tang, Caritas Board Member and Chair, Caritas Young Adults Committee