One Year In - an Intern's Perspective

This post is a reflection from Riley Scott one of our Interns.  

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One Year In

The WYD Parish Internship Program is at about the halfway mark - one year through, with one left to go: as good a time as any to reflect on where we are and where we're headed.

From the stories of others and my own time thus far, we've all of us experienced the internship differently. Personally, as in life, so in ministry: realized in retrospect, the most rewarding times have been the most challenging or demanding or uncertain, etc. Stepping out and stepping up, the rewards have well been worth the efforts (e.g. to care, to try) and risks (e.g. the pain of failure). Dedicated service has seen me feeling more a part of my parish than before, such that as a spectator a vital aspect would be missing; in giving, it feels I place myself in right relation to the community, without which life experienced within would be attenuated.

For the hours of the week we give, the Diocese extends an invitation to Madrid; for the heart we devote in service, we hear an echo of Christ's invitation to enter into a deeper relationship with God. To complete the average weekly hours for some is easy, for others it less so, but in any case the extra step we're all called to is the spirit with which we do those hours. Just as we'll have to actively experience Madrid when there to get from it all we can, so too with the ministry we now do: we can perform the requisite tasks mechanically or with heart and both will get us there, but when we try and care and give ourselves for it, we gain something else in the process; why settle for the former when we can use this as an opportunity for the latter?

In one sense we're halfway through the journey, our progress measured by the numbers in our logbooks, and it will all come to an end in a year or so. But I hope each person feels it in another sense, that this a stage of a journey we each started before and will continue long after the internship program, that can't be captured by something as simple as a number or name, and isn't about where we are on the face of the earth but where we are in relation to God.

A blessing perhaps sometimes unrecognized or unacknowledged, many are working with us without the motivation of Madrid (and so forth), and without their help a few of us probably wouldn't make it. Many thanks to all involved, from fellow interns to support staff to parishioners, especially to those that go beyond what any could reasonably expect of them, that, with servant hearts, serve us as we serve others. I hope we as a group can have an undeniable, substantial, positive impact, that our deeds may be a light that reveals the glory of God; a success such that no doubt is left that the program ought be continued and another group given the same opportunities and support for an equally meaningful and fulfilling journey.

Peace and God bless,

Riley Scott

Building castles or pitching tents?

We have an article by guest author Francis Voon from the Parish Support Unit.  If you have a story or idea for the blog, please contact Mark McDonald via email mark.mcdonald@dbb.org.au

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The word castle is derived from the Latin meaning 'fortified place.' Originating around the 9^th Century in Medieval Europe, castles were fortified, multi-purpose structures. They provided defensive protection from enemies and were bases from which raids could be launched. They were centres of administrative rule and symbols of power which individual lords built to control the people, travel routes and natural features of the surrounding areas. 

Castles were designed with polygonal or concentric defence walls and in the 12^th century, towers were added, enabling soldiers to defend and attack with flanking fire. Other design elements that were once military tactics, such as moats, became divorced from their simple usefulness as they evolved into symbols of power with the intention to impress and frighten off enemies.

In the 15th century, gunpowder artillery became powerful enough to break through stone walls, and so new structures were devised which made castles uncomfortable and undesirable places to live. As a result, they went into decline. From the 18th century onwards, there was a renewed interest in mock castle construction which had no military purpose.

Let us contrast these mighty, solid, unmovable fortresses with the simple dwellings of the ancient Israelites. When Moses took his people from one desert to another, they were essentially nomadic, picking up tents, setting down tents, rolling away tents, pitching tents. Even God’s tabernacle, where the presence of the Lord ‘dwelled’, was a movable tent (see Ex 40:36-38) – not surprising then, that the word ‘tabernacle’ derives from the Latin meaning ‘tent’!

As they dwelt in tents and moved constantly, they could not farm crops. So for sustenance they had to rely, not on the work of their hands, but completely on God. They met to gather manna from heaven, give thanks to God, partake of God’s free gifts and continue on their journey. (Eucharistic overtones, anyone?!) Quite simply, tent-living invited the Israelites to trust in God alone, live together in community, and be ready to move whenever the presence of the Lord indicated it was time to go on.

Perhaps there are valuable lessons to be learnt from castles and tents. There are certainly many questions the two contrasts raise that we can ask ourselves. Are we soldiers defending the castles of our own belief? Or are we pilgrims moving with the presence of God?

Do we become swept up in building fortifications as we battle to defeat others in ‘apologetics’ raids? Do we preach from high flanking towers of morality while turning blind eyes to abuses of power within the human structures of our church ever in need of repentance?

Do we build elaborate but empty moats of outward religious observance that are designed to impress others of our Catholicism? Or do we eagerly respond to relationship building with God as we practice looking for God in the ‘manna’ of our very lives?

Can we learn to leave our safe, immovable, forts of stone? Can we share the journey with others God blesses with along our path (even though the dwellings from which they come are made of straw, cardboard or mud?!)

Pope John XXIII said in his opening speech to the Second Vatican Council that “our duty is not just to guard this treasure [of the Truth of the Good News of Jesus Christ], as though it were some museum-piece and we the curators, but earnestly and fearlessly to dedicate ourselves to the work that needs to be done in this modern age of ours.”

Together, let us have the courage to pray: Journey with us, Lord, as we live in the messy, temporary tents of a pilgrim, wholly dependent on your gifts, calling others to join us as we continue to walk the path towards making your kingdom come. Amen!