St. Ignatius Day

So, here it is, my last few hours in the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan and it is the Solemnity of Ignatius of Loyola. I know that Ignatius, (a name that means 'fire') had his heart set of living in the Holy Lands as his heart was set on fire for the Lord. I find it delightful that I get to be in the Holy Lands as Ignatius desired on his memorial day. 

He desired to "save souls" and to let people know of God's hope for each person. He saw the dignity in the Royalty as well as the destitute and the outcast. He saw a vision of the world as the God of mercy. The time of Ignatius was during the initial years of the Protestant Reformation and the discovery of the lands in the Americas, Africa, and Asia. He provided the world with "The Spiritual Exercises," a course of prayer that have healed souls over the centuries. By right, he ought to be a Doctor of the Church because of the wholeness and holiness he brought others.

So, I sit here with a few hours left in the Hashemite Kingdom and I'm soaking in the many graces I received during my time here. Ignatius asks us to let the graces sensibly wash over us as if they were physical, so that we deeply get the sense that God is showering us with blessings. The midday sun is strong and it is cool in the residence's garden level. The Jesuit Superior and I shared a celebratory lunch together, as lunch is the major meal of the day.

At this point, I have mass to say at 6:00 p.m. and we will have homemade brownies, donuts, and other pastries following the meal. I'm packed and ready to go to the airport, which will happen hours from now. I marvel at modern transportation. I'll head to the airport at 10:30 p.m. for a 2:30 a.m. flight to Doha, Qatar, with a 2.5 hour connection, which is just the right amount of time. The plane leaves Doha at 8:00 a.m. and I am back in Boston at 2:30 pm. All in all, a 19 hour flight complete in 12 hours. Jet lag is worse traveling from West to East, so I've done the worst part of the time adjustment.

So, here I wait and pray. I remember all who have entrusted prayers to me and many people who did not ask, but I still included them. All is good. All is calm. I'll spend the time breathing in the air of this land and breathing out deeply so that I appreciate all the goodness I have received.

Happy Ignatius of Loyola Day, my friends. I hope you enjoy this summer feast. 

A Last Supper

As this is a long weekend Islamic holiday in the Kingdom, I took a walk to Abdali Mall. I like it in the early morning when people are gathered at outdoor restaurants to breakfast. It is quite and peaceful for a Saturday and people seem to be in a good mood.

On the way up the hill to make a crossing to the next road, I finally saw my old barber. He is an elderly Syrian man who hasn't changed much over the years. I sang to him the Syrian national anthem, "Biktub" and he sang along with me without reservation. He then pointed out to me the priest who lives across the street as he was coming out of his house. The priest looked well groomed and prosperous. When I was leaving Jordan eight years ago, he gave me a pair of scissors as a gift. I thought that was very thoughtful. He gave me an essential part of who he is.

As I walked up the road, I marveled at some of the interior gardens of businesses and residences. The people seem to have a special relationship with their flowers and trees. Some people really like when pine trees are growing outside their windows. It gives them Zen moments where they just breathe deeply. Often they may have a tiny plot of land at the entrance to their house or on their patio, but they tenderly care for these plants as they become part of the family.

As I was not in a sure to get to the Boulevard, I noticed several young men pass by me. What is clear is that many people where functional cologne and lots of it. The reasons are understandable but it makes me want to only wear perfume instead of cologne when I return home. The differences are major. 

Abdali Boulevard was sleepy, just the way I like it. It is akin to being at Quincy Market in Boston at 8:00 a.m. when the buskers have not yet reached their kiosks. There's also promise in the air about expectations and hopes for the day. Most of the people who visit the Boulevard during these hours are either hotel visitors or residents of the luxury apartments. 

Children seem to light up when I wave to them. They sometimes shout out their names to tell me who they are as their parents politely bring them over to say hello. Starbucks and Contra Coffee are the two big coffee sellers, so I make sure I go into an Arabic coffeehouse to get a specialty made cappuccino or my favorite, a flat white, both decaf.

 Mass at St. Mary's Sweifieh was quite good. The church is becoming filled again as people are returning from COVID protocols. Many have taken vacation and now feel that travel and going outdoors is easy enough. It is nice to see the church at near capacity. There will be a new Arabic pastor and I think he will be a good fit for the parish. He is kind, gentle, and wise, and the people need that. If there is a deficit in the church life in Amman, it is that the church often does not teach people to pray. I think people need to be introduced to Ignatian Spiritual Direction.

Last night we had many visitors to the Church again, and we provided donuts to celebrate the Solemnity of St. Ignatius of Loyola who died on this date in 1556. We said the eighth day of the Novena and many were very happy with the prayers I put together for them. I fared them well and I said goodbye and people were upset that I was not staying longer. 

During Mass, I kept thinking to myself, almost gleefully: Ignatius wanted to get to the Holy Land to live and say Mass. Here I am living and saying Mass in the Holy Land. I offered my mass for his intentions and to share with him the joy of being in the place he longed to be.

Afterwards, some friends and I went to an Italian restaurant that was quite good. It naturally was outdoors and the food was well presented and well prepared. The chef was from Italy and he trains a number of people how to prepare Italian food, not the Arabic way, but the Italian way. The results are quite good. My steak filet was almost medium rare, the pumpkin ravioli were homemade, the tuna and greek salad was tasty, the cheese plate was drizzled with extra virgin olive oil, and the bresciola was a highlight. All was prepared to high standards and it was topped off with homemade gelato. The pistachio was better than I anticipated. 

I sat eating under the stars, with tall pines to serenade us, mosaics on the way, with ambient lighting while having fun conversations with good friends. It does not get better than this. It was a splendid way to honor St. Ignatius and the good people of the Holy Lands.

Money, money, money

Money. This is always a complicated subject, especially how we obtain it and how we spend it. As we are the church, there are some expectations built up about the church sponsoring the livelihoods of different people, who were marginalized and sidelined from mainstream society. It is always difficult to know how and when to support those in need. 

Many come to the church because there has been a tradition of giving away money, and people know the church to be charitable. This is when the church is at its best and worst at the same time. Some people take advantage of the church's generosity and know how to play a system to their advantage and they take advantage of opportunities. Some are quite deceitful while others are truly in need. Some know which support systems to befriend and often they befriend many of the same types. The stories are all sad and some of them might even be true. 

There are professional beggars who learn from an early age that their job in life is to go from one support system to another. They do quite fine and are often found in the downtown cafes with their argilla and sustaining meals. They have a range of stories to share and they depend upon a network of do-gooders who will respond to their outward stories without knowing the deeper stories behind them. 

Some know which priests have softer hearts and are generous with donations, whether it is from their personal money or from the church. Often, people will make a relationship with you so that you know them and believe their stories and continue to support their narrative. The bottomline is that it takes constant discernment to know which stories are true and which people are really in need of help.

While it is true that many people on the margins have been put into a system that taken advantage of them, some of those people exploit the church and learn to get what they want. I hear so many stories of people getting wrapped up in paying the rent or electricity for those in supposed need, while the rent is being paid by another source. Co-dependencies are built and a false narrative of exploitation continues, often with the church or people of goodwill getting fleeced. I'm glad I don't have to make these decisions today.

Years ago as pastor, I stopped the cycle of dependency. There had been a policy in place that if a certain person needed to return home at a different time than the contract stated, the wealthy parishioners would pay for it, or if a parishioner continually declined to pay for insurance, the wealthier parishioners would be called upon to pay for someone's operation. Therefore, people would refuse to pay insurance because it was not needed. I sent a message: buy your own insurance. In many cases, overseas workers would send generous amounts of money home and would not invest in their own health care or needs. When a need arose, one asks the parish priest to pay.

The church needs to be in a place of generosity and goodness, but it also has to vet the true narrative to be of special help. Giving money is seldom the answer, but helping people obtain resources, learn new skills, invest wisely, or get a new job is a way to solve the problems. While I maintained openness to deal with crisis issues, I needed to pass it to the parish council who could be involved in the process of determining the need and the actual components of the story. It seems like a fairer way of using parishioners' resources, which were limited. 

Ah, the continuing discernment of how to use church money for the greater good. It is a story that will be told and retold each time a new person is in charge of the policies. May we find a way to provide the most needed help to those who truly need it. Sometimes it is through financial donations; most of the times it is by helping people achieve financial stability through the improvement of their own lives. 

Martha, Mary, and Lazarus

The greatest value in the church is not truth, but unity, and yet it does try to make amendments for its errors. Pope Francis visited the Indigenous peoples of Canada show brilliantly how the church and state can work together to correct its faults. The quality of the apology that Pope Francis made appeared genuine and is regarded as a first step in a long process of healing. The church really does try to make amends for the wrongs it has done.

The church is doing that with the portrayals of some of the women in the bible. Last week, we celebrated the feast of Mary Magdalene. A sermon by Pope Gregory in the seventh century conflated the sinful woman of Luke Gospel to Mary of Bethany and Mary Magdalen. Recent efforts have undertaken the rehabilitation of Magdalene's reputation forever stained by a careless sermon. 

Today's feast was also an attempt to separate and draw distinctions between the two Marys because this was the feast of St. Martha, sister of Mary, while Mary's feast day was last week. The church now calls this day the memorial of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus of Bethany, while last week's was clarified to refer to Mary of Magdala. It is important to make these distinctions because the wrong use of words can hurt our understanding of people. Thankfully, the church is trying to get it right after two centuries. Thank you, Pope Francis.

Yesterday, I continued my endeavor to clear out the community freezer where food had been stored for far too long and forgotten. I cooked some ground beef into hamburgers, which we did not have a chance to eat because the part time house cleaner ate the. I also baked some chicken with onions and garlic, and the house smelled so much like home this morning. We found some vegetables, which I thawed and tossed, and some cheeses that had been stored for far too long. The refrigeration is colder than what we use in the states and frozen foods last a lot longer, but still.....    Anyways, the freezer is cleared out.

Yesterday, we had to tend to the wounds of a Jesuit who checked on the honey bees in the garden. He bumped the hive that caused the bees to get angry, and he got stung on the top of his ear. With the stinger removed, he healed quickly with some application of vinegar and garlic. ~ The U.S. student that was hospitalized boarded a flight for the U.S. and happily returned home to more comfortable quarters. All is good. BC did a fine job in connecting with her support systems.

This morning, I went to a friend's new apartment to bless her two story apartment. She sold her house and found a small, quiet apartment in a low traffic area. It is a quiet neighborhood. Though it is small, it is still a three bedroom apartment with a combined dining area and parlor. It is much larger than many apartments in the Boston area. It is quite spacious, but not too large. It is one third of the size of her current house and yet it will be more than comfortable. Her son with his two dogs will live on the floor above her. It is an ideal set up.

This afternoon I attended a lunch with the Filipinos in honor of the Founding saint of their Teresian order. Saint Povedo was a Spaniard who founded the Teresians in Cova Donga. We had tons of food and refreshments and tons left over. I told them that there have found a new Jebel in town and they are calling it Jebel John as they keep feeding me food. Fortunately, I'm eating mostly vegetables. As it is a Friday, the day off, the streets are quiet and all activity is low, which is good because it is reaching 99 degrees during the day. Still, the nights are the best!

This is a holiday weekend. I think it is tied to an Islamic New Year. Most people are out of town for vacation. Tomorrow and Sunday we will celebrate the Ignatian feast day with donuts at the end of Mass. I'm fitting in some meetings, and as usual, there is a constant movement of people into and out of the area, because this is Jordan, a special place in the Arab world and a strategically important place to the West. If we could only find a way to bring some rain to this parched land. 

Fruit of the Vine

I have begun my packing process as I prepare for my home trip. My next door neighbor in the Jesuit Community left for Lebanon and then Egypt. He is an Egyptian who will be ordained a deacon in the Latin Church within the year and mostly likely to the priesthood next summer. We have had a good time together as we learned about each other's families and cultures. He liked the baked goods that I so often made. The Society of Jesus is in good hands with men like him coming up through the system.

Yesterday, I was trying to visit an American student who was hospitalized for a minor health situation, but I was unable to get there because this student was to be released an hour after my anticipated arrival to the hospital. We have kept in touch, and this student will have an earlier than planned back to Boston College.

Last night, I met friends in the Abdoun section of town for a wine and cheese reception. This friend sold her house and will vacate it by the end of August, so this was her last chance of having an event at the house she really loved. Her husband died around 7 years ago and now the house is a little to large for her. She and her son will live in a nearby section of town in a downsized two story apartment, and it will be quite lovely for them. I will do the apartment blessing on Friday. 

We had all sorts of bread, and my favorite was the Chia square. As a Lebanese woman with Francophone tendencies, the cheese were top of the line French delicacies. We had Brie, Goat cheese, truffles, port wine, and a few others to match the tasty meats and charcuterie plate and fresh fruit. Life is good when there is cheese and wine. Since the temperature was hot during the day, we imbibed white wines, and it was just lovely to sit on the veranda and engage in wide-ranging conversations. 

The family had two dogs, which is a rarity because many people are afraid of dogs. The golden retriever is on his last legs with hip problems and arthritis, but with an affectionate, youthful spirit. Another dog is a rescue dog with the most attractive dog eyes. It naturally is skittish, and I was told that the dog would not come to me because it fears people because of its past mistreatment. Mostly, the dog stayed nearby but far enough away from us for safety, but the family was amazed because twice the dog came to me to be petted. 

It was a lovely evening with a touch of sadness as I begin to bid adieu to this fascinating kingdom. 

Culture: the touching of hearts and minds and human freedom

 I could get used to this. I had dinner with wonderful friends at their family home and I was so energized by the conversation. The meal was incredible and the company was absolutely delightful. More on this later.

I started out the day speaking about the other grandparents of Jesus at mass, the paternal grandparents of Jesus, who are never mentioned. It was incredibly well received and the prayers of the faithful were spirited with loving remembrances of one's own grandparents.

From there I walked to Jebel Webdeih to visit the Jordan National Gallery of Fine Arts, which was established in 2005 by the present King. They are two fine buildings opposing each other and separated by verdant park. It is a quiet, peaceful area to sit. I wish I discovered it sooner as I would have brought a container of coffee and ready some books there. I think I'm ready for novels as I've been reading heavy stuff lately - death and evolution.

The first building I entered had four levels of gallery space and houses the temporary collection. It features a Jordanian woman who does a lot of soft pastels and watercolors. She focuses upon the feminine and her work contains subtle movements of women's bodies. It was distinctive in that it celebrated women in ways that are not often depicted in contemporary society in the central and east parts of Amman. Many pictures were of flowers and vases that showed softness that is yearned for but not received.

The second building houses the permanent collection and has three levels of gallery space. I found this wing intriguing for various reasons. Most of their work contains heavy elements of black; most also contain some orange as well. The black reminded me of what I thought was being conveyed: repressed anger, low self-esteem, frustration and they yearn for the flourishing of human freedom. The titles were also a bit rough and it may be that it is merely the translation into English. 

The part I found fascinating was that the gallery exhibited artists from Tunisia, Sudan, Indonesia, Bahrain Lebanon, Qatar, Baghdad, and other regions from the Arabic speaking world. There is a question of referring to it as Arabic or Oriental, and Oriental is preferred. An Arab refers to people who live on the Arabian Peninsula - Jordan, Saudi Arabia, the Gulf States. Iranians are not Arabs, nor are the Turks. The Iraqi do not consider themselves Arabs, nor do the Syrians, Lebanese, or even the Palestinians. Certainly not the Egyptians. They have the Arabic language that holds it together, but there are so many variations that it is a challenge for people to understand others' uses of words.

Jordan is much like the U.S. in that it is a melting pot, except no one in either country melts. Jordan welcomes people from different regions and has great tolerance for the cultural differences. Jordanians themselves comprise a small segment of the population. All are welcome, and each contributes to the local economy. The Jordanian Gallery of Fine Art contained some Jordanian artists, but most paintings are from other people who lives in the region. 

The top floor of the second building contains a vast art library, a museum store, and an indoor/outdoor coffee house and tea room. It is quite charming with views that look over Abdali and Jebel Hussein and the Jesuit Centre. From this vantage point, one can see that much of Amman is rooftop living. People love to be outdoors in the cool air without any bugs and with a beautiful night sky. Just lovely. There are lots of homing pigeon cages on rooftops as well. 

Dinner was at a friend's house. I've known him from my association with Dozan wa Awtar. His daughter is a gifted opera singer in France where she is expecting her first child in a couple of months. My friend would attend our concerts and he is a culture vulture. He has always supported my art career and he considers me better than I am.

The dinner guests were quite cultured and educated. We were wishing the French ambassador goodbye as her time in Jordan had finished. The new Italian ambassador joined us as did an official from the Spanish embassy. The CEOs of construction companies joined us, as did Bank presidents, and other movers and shakers. We had the types of conversations that are meaningful and thought provoking. It was very clear that the people love Jordan and desire to live nowhere else but in this country. The Jordanian nights are sublime and people in West Amman are quite literate, accomplished, and invested in the development of the region. I relished the conversations as they were very thoughtful and wide-reaching. I could get used to life in diplomatic circles.

I felt embarrassment and shame as well. As the sole American, I am fluent in English, while most others have Arabic, English, French, Italians, Spanish, Latin, Romanian, Russian, Greek, and German as languages in which they are versatile. I felt my language poverty. How I wish I could be as conversant as the are. Living overseas expands one's worldviews and makes one more accepting of other cultures and expressions. Their lives are far richer also because they have almost an innate grasp of world history. I find these people quite fascinating. This night brought me far from the world far different from experiences in Central Amman and into a world of culture and great thoughts. It was a night of celebration, fine food, mixed spirits, laughter and sorrow, hopes and dreams, and conversations that moves hearts towards greater solidarity. These are the nights people yearn for, moments of happiness and understanding, times of connection and understanding. I could get used to this.

All the while, the news channels report on the Pope's visit to Canada to address the wrong ways that church and state have harmed people over its missionary ideology.

Life is good. Life is meaningful, and it is beautiful when we can touch hearts and minds and souls. 

Crumz and the Taj Mall

I go out in the morning as it is still cool and tolerable walking up and down hills that would cause perspiration in the Northeast U.S. This morning I went to the Museum of Old Signs because I heard people refer to it affectionately. It was certainly a pleasant experience and I was able to chat with two of the museum curators, though in a limited fashion. They were very proud of the museum. I tried offering a tip to support the free museum but they didn't understand my intention.

I think the oldest sign is from 1947 and it contains some interesting features. Amman is still a young city, maybe 90 years old and it really began to develop after the Nakba, the forced exile of Palestinians from their land into Jordan. The Palestinians and Jordanians are quite different people, but they are siblings in their concern for the land that was taken from them. The city is now the fifth largest Arab city and has strategic importance to the West and in its relationship to its Arab neighbors.

After visiting the museum, I went to some of the small shops in the downtown area and I wandered through alleys. Some alleys are like districts. There is a district for gold, one for silver, some for fabrics, another for car parts, and there are various mens and womens shops. They have shops of elegantly individually wrapped chocolates and sweets, tons of watered down perfume, baubles, and childrens toys, nuts and dates, and seafood restaurants. It is quite a happening place and people do enjoy being there.

After the shopping excursion, I went back to Darat Al Funum because the interior portion of the museum was closed when I went there last week. The exhibit is on sustainability and ways to create vibrant green pastures out of deserts. The soil in Jordan is actually quite fertile. It is just the 3rd poorest water nation in the world. 

The big question that I have is "Why do so many people smoke?" When one walks into a small shop, it is like walking into a smoking nightclub as there is smoke dust all around. The places wreak of tobacco. I can understand why one smoke argilla, because it is a social custom and it is an activity but far too many people here smoke cigarettes, vape, and use argilla. 

I know that children begin around 14 and no one seems to mind. I have never seen a logical explanation for the reason for smoking, so it just confuses me why people continue to smoke when they know it is harmful. Is it because they do not think it is harmful enough? Do they think they can quit? It is quite a challenge to quit in this culture when the smoking is pervasive. 

There does not yet seem to be a realization that some people do not like smoke, so people do not accommodate one's non-smoking preferences. They light up whenever and wherever. However, I did notice that in the newer malls, people vape but there is no outright smoking on the premises. A person can smoke in the cafes and restaurants (which I still don't like) but at least it is outdoors.

This evening I drove to a place called Crumz, because it was one of my places of respite eight years ago. It is quite a fine bakery just on the edge of town that caters to the wealthier West Ammanites. There is a non-smoking section and one can have a leisurely cup of coffee with some well-prepared bread or muffins or pastries. I was pleased to discover it is still there. Actually, most of the places that I frequented are still around, which must say something good about the economy.

I went to the Taj Mall afterwards. This Mall is built for the wealthy Saudis who come to Jordan for vacation. Their wives go shopping and you will find all the high end stores that are in expensive neighborhoods in the West. The Saudi Arabian embassy is right across the street so lots of exchanges happen in this area. I believe the Taj Mall is Iraqi owned and operated.

One of the most impressive features of Jordan is the mall parking lots. They are so clean and well attended with great lighting and no trash with wide lanes for parking and it is free. It is just amazing how they have developed a system that feels normal and is a pleasant parking experience. The roads are very good here too, though the drivers will often make a two lane highway into four.

As the Taj Mall is on the west side of the city, it draws a wealthier demographic. You will see many people wearing western clothing and just handing out. Some wear shorts and light tops, and you'll still find your share of covered people. I can see that the clothing that is worn makes a statement. If you are short, portly, and non-descript, but you wear a white robe with a sash around your head covering, it speaks of stature. In some ways, the same thing happens with some clerics in the U.S. as it is immediately recognizable and identifiable. I was noticing that about 3/5th of the people were uncovered, but that is lower than eight years ago. Once again, I was about to greet Sister with a big hello, until I realized that it was an Islamic outfit and not a Roman one.

Though there is Polo, Abercrombie, and all the big name shops, so many people still wear basic black. People dress in a way that does not represent the best of themselves, whether in Jordan or the U.S. With so much good clothing, wouldn't one want to dress nicely when they go outdoors?

And so, my one disappointment was that the Chinese Restaurant, P.F. Chang, has been replaced by Chuck E Cheese. However, there appears to be a fine appearing Italian restaurant tucked away from the crowds where a more subtle crowd gathers to dine. All in all, it was fun to revisit places that I've frequented and to marvel at how successful the economy remains. 

Off to start another drawing. Here is one that I tinkered with last night. I call it Loaves and Fishes.

The Gospel Makes sense here!

Today's Gospel reading is about persistence in prayer and it makes sense particularly in a place like the Holy Land because you can replicate the circumstances in ways that you cannot do it in the West. In the Gospel, it talks about a neighbor banging on your door in need of bread in the wee hours of the morning. the neighbor will persist until she gets what she wants. She will keep banging in her persistence, and it will be annoying, and it will be impolite, but her banging will make you get up and get her what she needs. 

It does not matter if you are sleeping and the matter can be addressed civilly later. She is at your door and wants you to answer now. It seems as if you cannot teach certain people politeness or civil manners. The now is what is important. Jesus tells us to be just as persistent in prayer. I do not expect that he condones the impolite behavior, as common as it is. I imagine that in biblical times there were not gates and locks as there is now.

So, this morning, a quiet Sunday morning, I went upstairs to wash the dishes before I showered and bgan my laundry. I was not presentable to the public world. There were two woman noisily chattering outside the window of the Jesuit Centre. It seemed as if they wanted to be heard. They heard a noise inside the house, through open the windows and said, "Let me in. I'm here and I have a program upstairs. Can you open the door?  Please open the door. It is hot, and I came early for the program." They sat in the sun while they could have moved under the arbor to get shade, but they sat there so they would not miss the priest who was coming for the program. 

I tried speaking but the two of them shouted over me, "Open the door." There could be no conversation. Because I was not presentable and I did not have keys on me, I tried asking them questions, "What time is your program? Who is leading it? What is it about?" They shouted, "So you can't open the door for me?" I asked, "Will the Abouna come to the program?" They shouted, "So you can't open the door?" I said, "Please wait for Abouna. He will come."

Dilemma. If I allow them to enter, I have to stay with them for at least half an hour while they set up the program. Not only that, I will have to provide for them what they need, which they do not find accessible. Turn on the lights, the air conditioning, close the shade, get them some hot water. Yes, their needs will be served, and on the flip side, my time and my needs do not matter to them. They are happy. 

Walls and fences make for good neighbors, and in parts of the city, one cannot easily access a neighbor's property. Since the Jesuit Centre has historically run various programs, people have a familiarity with the property and feel they have a right to access it when they need it. Perhaps they do, but the situation needs to be explained. There is also a sense that your private space can be easily violated. It gives insight into the lives of those who lives of many who may not feel like they have any space that is protected or sacrosanct. As the poor or people who are domestic workers, they have few rights or privileges in many situations, and there is no escaping the poor. 

The whole situation is disturbing. It is a frequent occurrence that people will lift their heads into windows to see if you are around, which always means that you are available to them, especially as priests. I don't know the circumstances around this morning's event, but for the most part, people do not plan. They have an idea and they show up and get you to be available. Sometimes, someone will say, "I've come to have confessions, and I will feel better if I do it now, and you are here now." They sometimes try to put you into a situation where you feel bad if you do not respond, and you cannot let yourself be put into that situation. You have to set boundaries. People are clever in trying to get you to give them what they want when they want it.

The other day, two children came by the Jesuit Centre on the Friday, a day when no programs are run and no one is in the house. They wanted small amounts of money. If you give it to them, they will come back; you know they are refugees and are sent by their parents, who make them sit outdoors in the sun all day in hopes of getting a couple of dinars. 

Some people are simply demanding, just like the Gospel says, because they know it works for them. For a priest not to give them what they want at the moment they want it, causes them to consider you a bad priest. I think the greater work here is to teach people politeness, to be able to set firm boundaries, to help them know the value of planning, and to build relationships that explains something about who they are and what their real needs are.

The point of the Gospel is to be that persistent in prayer, not in neighborly situations, but we have experience where people will be exacting and demanding. The Gospel shows us that we can be this raw, this forceful in our prayer. 

Wait Your Turn

Somehow, the desert climate tires a person out, but I had a restful sleep this morning knowing that I did not have to rise for early morning mass. It was just like a lazy Sunday morning when you've gone to Mass on Saturday evening.

I did celebrate the sacrament of reconciliation several times this week, but a memorable experience was when one person said, "This is my first time in four years. I've missed it so much." The expression of relief was just incredible. The other experiences were quite fine, but I appreciated the joy this person expressed in returning to the sacrament. Most times, this is the finest part of being a priest because you get to witness the exchange of grace so freely between the person and God.

In the late morning, a couple of the workers were trying to even out one of those shades that when you try to fix only one side elevates causing a frustrating mess. It took some effort, but they were able to do it fairly easily, but I had to laugh during another event. Jordan is really an outdoor climate and most of the times the windows to the Jesuit Centre are open with screens to keep insects out. Occasionally a bug finds its way into the house. Three of the guys were standing and looking at one of the insects that had flipped onto its back and was barely moving. They were speaking in Arabic so I could not tell what they were saying. Finally, I grabbed a tissue, pick up the bug, and threw it in the covered wastebasket. It was nearly dead. One of the guys protested, "Fr. John, Fr. John. You shouldn't have done that. We are trying to train this one man how to pick him up." Huh?

A few hours later, I made some rice and added packaged salmon flakes to it because it was an American product and the cook did not know what to do with it. It was quite tasty and so easy to make. It was those refrigerated salmon pouches that can be added to rice, pasta, salads, or thrown together with light mayonnaise for a sandwich. I think I am teaching people in the Centre about how to cook and to be adventurous. By the way, the chocolate cake with dark chocolate ganache tastes great.

One of the conversations around the Centre was about this person who often wants to help another person out of a sense of Christian charity. It really comes across as a person with a good heart. This is a person with a professional degree and practice and will see someone in need and ask, "Father, do you have ten dinars (dollars)? Give it to that person." At first it strikes you well that this person's heart is moved so fully to take care of the poor until you realize that this person will never give a cent! Around town, this person is known for one's charitable ways, so to speak. 

It takes time to get used to the Jordanian sense of time. People will show up at the Centre and because they are there and they have made the trip, they want you to be present for them immediately. Or they will call you on the phone and expect you to be available. For some, planning doesn't exist. The moment is now. I recall that during the last months I was in Jordan, I bought a seperate phone so that I could have personal contacts on one phone and parish contacts on the other. It was routine for someone to ring me seventeen times in a row to impress upon me that they wanted to speak with me. The time is now. That is what is important to a person who wants to reach you. Even on a Friday morning, which is the Sabbath, someone will call you at 7:30 a.m. so that you know they want to speak with you. Polite people would wait until after 10:00 a.m. This is such a curiosity.

When I went into Mass today, a woman saw me walking from the entrance of the church to the sanctuary, and she shouts out, "Father, I don't have a piece of paper." I said, "I know. I have them with me." She said, "Usually, I get a piece of paper in front of the church, and I don't have one." I said, "I know. The papers are with me. Did you see me just walk in?" Yes. Did you see me hold a bag? Yes. Am I still holding the bag? Yes, Am I still wearing my hat? Yes. Just then, another woman shouts out to her: Wait your turn. Be patient. Give him some time. You'll get your paper. I wanted to nominate that woman for canonization.

Wait your turn. I find myself saying that phrase often.

Mass went very well. I brought twenty-six extra copies of my homily because it was about practicalities around prayer. After mass, every copy was taken, and I ran out. People took my email so they could get a copy of it for their further reflection. I did not know I would hit the mark so well. 

https://predmore.blogspot.com/2022/07/persist-in-prayer-seventeenth-sunday-in.html

I had some very thoughtful conversations with people after mass, and I was delighted to meet again the wide range of people. 

Longtime friends from Jordan/U.S. invited me and Fr. Bimal for dinner at a nearby Italian restaurant. The atmosphere was so good and we sat outdoors because for nine months of the year, the evening are just perfect for outdoor dining. I've met with these friends in the U.S. and they are quite a lovely couple from Jordan. The wife's sisters are visiting and so they joined us. I had a baked bream (fish) wrapped in banana leaves, and it was succulent and cooked to perfection. The chocolate enclosed cinnamon mouse with orange shavings was the perfect way to end with a cappuccino. Two of the sisters split a fish that had been encrusted with Dead Sea Salt and had to be broken open in order to filet it. All the meals were quite lovely, but the best part was the varied conversations about meaningful topics. Somehow in Jordan, we are able to get to substantive issues right away. My heart goes out to so many people here who are trying to do the best with challenging circumstances.

I came home quite contented and rested knowing that there is so much good in the world and believing that goodness will always win out in the end, though it might be bruised and tarnished along the way. Good has to win out. There's so much of it and I just feel fortunate to behold so much of it each day.

A funeral

I awoke early this morning to get ready for the Mass honoring Mary Magdalene. Since gardens are rare and precious in the Middle East, I thought I would begin my homily on that note. Then I would talk about how Pope Gregory conflated Magdalene with the sinful woman and her history has never been the same again. My words were extricate her of that improper judgment. 

Speaking of gardens, I had a little visitor from yesterday's garden, After showering and dressing, I felt what might have been a spider on my neck and onto my hair. I flicked it away but I wasn't confident that I shooed it away. Maybe it was nothing at all. Your imagination takes over when you are in a foreign land for this spider felt massive, and one never knows if it is poisonous. I felt it again a minute later, and this time I knocked it off me. I was tiny and it did not look ferocious. It was maybe an eighth of an inch but it felt like three inches when I could not tell where it was. I laughed at what our minds can do.

After Mass, a friend stopped over for a coffee so I baked some medium-sized quiches and a chocolate cake. She left before they were ready, but the quiches were quite tasty, and the cake was cooked just the right amount of time. I was relieved. I planned to frost it later, and since the oven was hot, I baked some ready made meat pies for lunch because we only have a cook on Mondays and Wednesdays. 

Later on when I came back to frost the cake, I discovered we had half a stick of butter, so I had to improvise and I made dark chocolate ganache to cover the cake. The cake should go very well with ice cream.

During the afternoon, I altered my plans to attend a funeral of a friend's husband. I know this woman from Bible Study, and her husband had been suffering from terminal cancer. He died yesterday so the burial was today with some prayers in the church on Sunday when his son can return from the U.S. The poor man was in a coma for half a year.

The funeral was Orthodox and it was supposed to last ten minutes. Since this was a well connected family, many priests arrived, but as one priest pointed out, not one of them visited him in the hospital or her at the family home. The service lasted 40 minutes because they needed to earn their tip. 

The body was brought in and the top of the casket was removed. The chapel was at a funeral home octagonally shaped with an altar stone in the center. The chanting of the priests was quite moving and at points there were five point harmony. I had no idea what they were saying except Alleluia and Amin. They would occasionally used the thurifer to incense the body, the priests, and the assembly. This thurifer was quite cool because there are ceramic balls attached to it as the incensing must have sound with it. Most people like the smells and bells of church rituals. 

Few people attended the burial, and the reception line moved quite fast. Afterwards, a meal was to be held at the function hall at the Orthodox Church in Sweifieh. I was invited to the lunch, but I was told I would sit with the men and eat mansaf. I like mansaf, but it would have been awkward to sit in silence with people I don't know for an hour. I'll get to the prayer service on Sunday, and I'll get to see the women of the Bible Study group.

I had no idea where I was. I followed a GPS to the cemetery, which I think was northeast of Jebel Hussein, where I live. I did not recognize any place on this route. There was a tall building called the Mega Mall but it seemed like an old empty shell of a building. I did like the Christian cemetery though. It was comforting to see the crosses and statues that are so familiar to me. It is, however, in a part of town that is not well connected to the major centers. 

Afterwards, I came home and worked on a watercolor painting. After sketching a supposed scene of Baghdad with pen, I quickly threw down some watercolors. It was a bit fun. After I did that, I walked to Al Abdali Mall to get in my steps. It is alway better to go in the evening. On my way, I met a man walking a dog. I had seen them before so I stopped and asked it I could pet their dog, whose name is Lucky. He was delighted, and so was Lucky. Lucky's coat was very soft and he was a mid-sized dogs. Most Muslims do not like to have dogs around, but I see more and more of them that are cared for well-enough. I was glad to be able to pet Lucky.

I took a long walk to the Mall, passing by the Judicial Court, the Education Center, some other official buildings, and some barracks. I always greet the soldiers, who look so stern, and they their face changes when I greet them. I like seeing the smiles, and I hope it is a bright spot in their day as well. 

Novena to St. Ignatius of Loyola

 Novena to St. Ignatius of Loyola

Pray each day at home from July 23rd to July 31st

 

 

 

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

 

Opening Prayer (ALL): Lord, teach us to be generous. Teach us to love you and serve you as you deserve; to give and not to count the cost; to fight and not to heed the wounds; to toil and not to seek for rest; to labor and not to look for reward, except to know that we seek your will.

 

 

 

Lord Jesus, Eternal King, I feel your gaze on me. With the angels and powers martyrs and saints, I stand before you to heed your call. You have blessed me with holy desires, and I come before you to make my offering. Let it be my desire and my choice, if you want it, too, to live my life as you lived yours. You understand our joys and our suffering, and you call me to choose your Greater Glory. I will labor to bring God’s reign if you will give me the gift to do it. Here is the grace I seek from you today: 

 

 

(Mention your request here…)

 

(ALL): Father in heaven; give us today the same grace that Ignatius received – to know Jesus intimately – to love him more dearly – and to follow him more closely. Help us to remember that with Jesus as our model – we may be able to reveal him – in all we say and all we do. This we ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

With St. Ignatius we pray:

 

Soul of Christ, sanctify me.
Body of Christ, save me.
Blood of Christ, inebriate me.
Water from the side of Christ, wash me.
Passion of Christ, strengthen me.
O Good Jesus, hear me.
Within Your wounds hide me.
Never let me be separated from you.
From the malevolent enemy defend me.
In the hour of my death call me.
And bid me come unto You,
That with Your saints,
I may praise You forever and ever. Amen. 

 

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us today our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses, and we forgive those who trespass against us. Do not let us be led into temptation but deliver us from evil. Amen. 

 

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

 

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen. 

 

Pray: The Suscipe

 

Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty,
my memory, my understanding, and my entire will,
All I have and call my own.
You have given all to me.
To you, Lord, I return it.
Everything is yours; do with it what you will.
Give me only your love and your grace, that is enough for me.

Novena Prayer to St. Ignatius of Loyola

To be prayed during Mass following the Intercessory Prayers.

July 23^rd to July 31st

 

 

Lord Jesus, Eternal King, I feel your gaze on me. With the angels and powers martyrs and saints, I stand before you to heed your call. You have blessed me with holy desires, and I come before you to make my offering. Let it be my desire and my choice, if you want it, too, to live my life as you lived yours. You understand our joys and our suffering, and you call me to choose your Greater Glory. I will labor to bring God’s reign if you will give me the gift to do it. Here is the grace I seek from you today: 

 

(Mention your request here…)

 

(ALL): Father in heaven; give us today the same grace that Ignatius received – to know Jesus intimately – to love him more dearly – and to follow him more closely. Help us to remember that with Jesus as our model – we may be able to reveal him – in all we say and all we do. This we ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.

 

With St. Ignatius we pray:

 

Soul of Christ, sanctify me.
Body of Christ, save me.
Blood of Christ, inebriate me.
Water from the side of Christ, wash me.
Passion of Christ, strengthen me.
O Good Jesus, hear me.
Within Your wounds hide me.
Never let me be separated from you.
From the malevolent enemy defend me.
In the hour of my death call me.
And bid me come unto You,
That with Your saints,
I may praise You forever and ever. Amen.

Accompaniment to Wadi Shatir

Much of Jesuit life is about accompaniment and I had a chance to do that with a summer outing for the people who attend functions at the Jesuit Centre. We were Somalis, Sudanese, Jordanians, Iraqi, Yemeni, Americans, Egyptians, and a few other places. 

We left for Wadi Shakir around 9:30 a.m. I know I misspelled the name of the place, but I know it is very near to Iraq al Amir, which means the Caves of the Princes. It is where the prophet Tobit has inscribed his name on the entrance to the Cave walls and it would be the place where Elijah listened for God's voice following the thunder and rush of wind. It is a lush wadi (valley) where lots of eggplants, zucchini, bananas, and other produce are grown. 

This is the location of the Royal Flower, that is rarely seen. It is the Black Iris, which is really dark purple, but it blossoms in late April and early May. Few Jordanians have ever seen one in real life, but it is their national symbol.

The road to this water camp was quite eventful as we passed many goats, a white camel, a braying donkey dotted along a scenic mountainside that almost looks like an Italian countryside. The hills and valleys make for some nice scenery. As we approached the campsite, we could see the Royal Palace that is designed for recreational purposes on the highest hill. You can see the Jordan Valley and River, the Dead Sea, and the terrain of Palestine. Sometimes you can see what looks like layers of smoke on the horizon, but it is dust from the desert that gets kicked up by the wind. All in all, it is a beautiful view, and I always think of the Prophet Isaiah's words: Make straight the pathways. The valleys will be filled in and the mountains laid low, and the road home from exile will be flat, and the desert will be bursting with flowers and fruited trees. 

The road was winding and narrow and most drivers don't like to give an inch. Drivers here have a different concept of space as we do in the U.S. We had a couple of hairpin turns in low gear before we arrived at the water camp. 

I finished reading a theology book because I found a spot in the shade where I could simply take some quiet. In the hot weather, one perspires without producing sweat, and it is important to hydrate, so I took some slow time just to finish a book I really liked. 

The people enjoyed it so much. They immediately ran down to the river, took off their sandals, and put their feet in the water. After some Sundanese coffee and a falafel snack, they were ready for bones or dancing. I joined in one game of bones that I scarcely remember from childhood. It was good just to play with the guys, who turned to cards after a while. Most were there to practice their English and to have fun.'

Some came over to talk in English, but they were too shy. They asked me to be gentle with them, but they got all over me when I mispronounced a word. They taught me how to form sounds in Arabic. I wish I had these instructions years ago. It is quite amazing to realize how extensive the Arabic world is, and where their centers of culture are located. There are different dialects for Yemeni, and people from Qatar, but their world centers around Arabic cities. One would have no problem moving between Pakistan, Baghdad, or Beirut because Arabic ties it all together. It is fascinating to realize that Amman is the fifth largest city in the Arab world, and so it becomes a center for commerce, culture, and vacations. A Francophone nation might want to visit Paris, many want to visit Germany, but the place many really would like to visit is Spain because it was once an Islamic nation. They don't know what city they want to visit or what they might want to see, but it was once part of their heritage while being European at the same time.

We talked a lot about hijabs and clothing and various Islamic customs and sayings. There are times when I want to greet someone as sister because she is wearing nun's clothing, but then I recognize that it is Islamic wear. The point is that the habits of sisters come from the attire of the middle east. The same with clerics and men's robes like cassocks. You will see a man walking down the road in a cassock and then realize he is not a priest. We are not all that different. Obviously, the Middle Ages adapted the clerical attire to be much more stratified, and now we are left with Medieval garments. 

We spent a lot of time talking, and laughing, and finally the woman got me to dance, and then the men danced. Fortunately, the lunch bell rang and I had a way out, but all throughout the afternoon when someone would see me, they would imitate a move I made, and they would start chuckling. Most of all, the people just wanted me as an American and as a priest to sit with them to talk. They did not care what we spoke about but they wanted to chance to use their newly acquired language while being seen and known by an American. 

I placed my feet in the water one more time and cooled down before the trek back to Amman. Since it was a Thursday, the traffic would be bad because it is like heavy Cape or Maine traffic on a Friday. Cars jockey for any position and they thereby make greater delays. Anyways, it was a lovely day, and we shared many laughs, many stories, and learned many lessons.

Celebrating What's Right With the World

Today was really a low-key day. I had no desire to go out or to do anything. I had a good night's sleep and said Mass for the local community, but then I tied up some loose ends for projects that are in process. I worked on this weekend's homily, put together the weekend Mass program, wrote the Prayers of the Faithful, and caught up on many correspondences. Other than that, I corrected a watercolor painting that is not too complex, but it is a greater challenge to make a subject look simple than it is to make it complex. As I look back on the day, I don't feel like I accomplished all that much, but I needed a lowkey day to plan the rest of my time in the city.

At lunch, we had lamb and cusa (rice and beef stuffed zucchini), pasta, grape leaves, rice, and chicken. I only had the cusa and grape leaves and a small piece of lamb. It was quite enjoyable.

After I caught up on correspondences, I noticed that it was already 5:00 p.m., the time in which the refugees would come for some enlightenment. Most of them are refugees from Yemen, Somalia, or the Sudan, and they are learning English and some life skills. We have conversations for an hour after watching a film clip. All in all, we spend two hours together.

I suggested that they watch the TEDx talk, "Celebrating what's Right with the World," as it is Ignatian Spirituality in layperson's words. Celebrating What's Right. I hope you like it. I think you will like it as much as they did. The premise is: Change your Lens, Change your world.

It shows that you are responsible for creating your worldview and that you can discover God in all things, if you simply reframe what you notice and sense. It shows how to achieve the magis, by not only getting a good shot with your lens, but getting a great shot. It helps us to discern - to see what is helpful to us and to leave behind what harms us or at least does not help us. It gives us choices in freedom. We can live in reality and see that there is far more good that happens in the world than bad, and we choose the side of Christ the Eternal King, who calls us to see as he sees and to live as he lives. He calls us into a program of life. The way we see the world determines how we act, see, and dream. We might have to actively seek God's presence in the world, and it is within our grasp. It allows us to believe the Resurrection is real, and that our world can be filled with beauty, wonder, and admiration, even when we know that violence, war, hatred, and destruction goes on. We hold onto hope. We trust in God and by doing so, despair vanishes. It helps us determine our passion and then to direct akk all our resources to our passions because God gave us those desires to achieve and enjoy. Celebrating what's right with the world allows us to live in joy and happiness and to be grateful for what exists around us. It achieves what the Spiritual Exercises is all about because we are to love and see the world the way God loves and sees the world, and when we do so, there's nothing else to do but to celebrate what's right with the world 

The Dabke Dance

For some reason, as night approached, I felt wide awake and fully rested. I went to bed at the regular time, and I could not sleep. The night was cool, there was little traffic noise to interrupt sleep, and the day was full. I had caffeine late in the day, and I received an email that was a mild inconvenience, but I think I was really caught up on my sleep. I had a full day of activities, taking notes for the sessions on Faith and Evolution, reading most of John O'Malley's books on the three Councils, sketching an Iraqi scene, and replying to emails. I read headline of people not being able to sleep in Europe because it was brutally hot and I lay in comfortable sleeping weather. I had no worries to keep me awake, and there I was at 3:00 a.m. with eyes wide open knowing that it would affect me the entire next day, especially for my 9:00 a.m. meeting.

I had a full day planned after Mass. I had a meeting with a Jordanian friend, and then went to look at the progress of renovations in four apartments. I needed sleep in order to feel fully engaged but that time had passed. I was able to watch some apartments in preparation stages for long-term rentals and Bed and Breakfast short-term rentals. 

What was fascinating was watching the Property Owner dealing with the workers. It is almost as if one has to stand over the worker to make sure the work is done correctly. Lots of short-cuts are taken and low quality work is done unless you are diligent and you make certain that the work is done to one's high standards. If you are kind and polite, the workers will take advantage of you. As many times as you tell someone what you are looking for, they do not seem to anticipate it the next time. The statements have to be repeated as if you are telling someone for the first time. Incremental learning does not seem to take hold among some workers.

The next apartments we visited, a kindly engineer was on site. He has middle-aged and gentle. Workers will take advantage of him because he is kind, so the owner stops by almost daily to make sure the small details are addressed. It is important for someone to be on-site to look after the progress. Now, it becomes more complicated if the owner is a woman because most men will not respect a woman's authority. She is often dismissed, treated with ridicule, and viewed as an object, mostly an object of derision. I see this in action many times in the Kingdom. I saw it first when we were preparing for a theatrical play years ago. The producer/writer/director of the play needed a man to join her when speaking with the theatre management because they would not treat her with any modicum of respect. It takes enormous reserves of courage and strength to operate in a world where men entertain such worldviews. It is a fascinating study. We in the U.S. cannot harshly judge a culture such as this because in many ways the West is just more subtle. 

I did a baptism at St. Joseph's church of an infant belonging to an expatriate mother and her Lebanese father. The ceremony was fun. The little girl loved the idea of playing in the water that would be blessed for her baptism. She was mostly soaked even before we began the ceremony. She high-fived me, loved holding the candles, relished the attention, and was quite joyful as many children often are. We took some nice photos afterwards and then the family went to dinner. I was invited to dinner but I did not know where it would be served so I declined. 

I took an Egyptian Jesuit out for a walk down Rainbow Street, which is the equivalent of Newbury Street in Boston, and we had dinner at a place called Wild Jordan that looked out at the Roman Citadel and the Temple of Heracles. The street on the busy end has a lot of shi-sha bars, a famous falafel kitchen, some religious bookstores because of the nearby high school, and some shawarma cafes. The other end of the street is filled with art galleries, expensive pottery and jewelry stores, and high-end restaurants. It is tree lined and a festive, but quiet place. 

Wild Jordan http://wildjordancenter.com/ is an environmentally and ecologically conscious center that provides tours to the conservation areas in the country. The cafe and restaurant are both quite good. I had a Green Detox drink made of kiwi, apple, celery, honey, spinach, and lime juice. Mmm. Quite tasty, and I had a Grilled Haloumi Cheese and Watermelon salad. Refreshing. 

When we finished the meal, we went back to church where we parked, and I introduced the Egyptian Jesuit to some Egyptian friends, and they talked for a while. The church operates a restaurant that has club status so only Christians can eat there as members. Coming out of the outdoor restaurant was the family with the baby I had just baptized. Ah, it was a fun rendezvous. We laughed. I didn't realize they were eating right there. I would have joined them.

The most moving part of the night though was the graduation of the Iraqi refugees from their educational year. Many of them received high marks and they donned their graduation caps and gowns. They were so happy, fresh, and young looking. From the lives of suffering, they are making something worthwhile in their start to life. Many will go onto European, Australian, or Canadian colleges. It broke my heart to see such happiness come out of their difficult entrance to life. And they were so happy.

The Egyptian Jesuit and I went into the outdoor gathering space to see the pastor and to say hi to some of the people who were relatives. The live music began to play and the Dabke dance broke out. I saw this dance performed several times over the years, most recently in Detroit, Michigan when I attended the Baghdad College Reunion. The Dabke dance is where people line up in a large circle and they hold hands and they move slightly to the right. They shake their shoulders, a quick lift of the leg, a twist of the neck, and they barely advance in motion, but it is something that they love. It looks quite simple but the shoulder rolls are quite complicated. I will post a video of it. 

Mostly, I like to see happy people. We have much suffering in our lives, but suffering does not have to define it. I like happy people. Life is much more enjoyable and pleasant, and it does not negate the seriousness of our suffering and sorrow, but we have to joy of the Gospel to keep us rooted in hope. 

To the Balad, the Downtown

Ah, I taught an Egyptian Jesuit how to cook some refrigerated meals. He liked the taste of the pastries I baked and he wanted to see how it was done. He realized that he can do it on his own if he needs to do so. He was having friends over and wanted to impress them with a tasty breakfast.

I took the morning to drive to an indoor-outdoor art gallery called Darat Al Funum. It is one of my special places in Amman because it is incredibly peaceful and with a lot of shade. Darat al Funum has a special meeting happening so I was not able to see the indoor exhibits, but I mostly go for the outdoor viewsThe atmosphere is serene and the outdoor seatings are cleared of dust every morning so it is inviting to sit and read or sit and pray. I did both. The location is at Jebel Amman, the oldest settled hill in the region and it overlooks the Balad, the downtown shopping district. One goes from the most quiet place to the busiest of places.

After leaving the gallery, I found the stairwell to Al Balad. From the top of the stairs, it seems like a fun adventure as there are old paintings of Picasso and Van Gogh that signify this is a place of culture. At the top of the stairwell, I saw four young men sitting outdoors having coffee. When I returned one and half hours later, they were still there talking up a storm.

There are cultural tour group meeting houses along this stairwell and there is a museum that I want to visit called "Museum of Old Signs." I saw the sign for it and noted it, and when I returned people told me it was a must see place. Along the stairwell there are barbers and bookstores, restaurants and tailor shops, and other neat places.

Once I stepped into the Balad, the pedestrian traffic almost takes you along with its energy. There are famous Shawarma kiosks and falafel drums. There is one falafel place that always has a long line to order food. I've eaten there a few times. There is also a kanafeh baker that draws long lines of dessert-goers. Children are weaned on these honey and pistachio topped cheese pies. They are quite tasty. I used to get a high caloric drink in the winter in the size of an espresso shot glass called Saleh. It is filled with cream, cinnamon and pistachio. Mmm. It is only served in the winter to warm you up, but I would imagine a little rum or vodka would give it a good punch. 

I was marveling at the changes in the Balad from eight years ago. Gone are the numerous DVD stores that mostly sold illegally copied movies. I could always watch American blockbusters before they were on screen in the U.S., but they are now replaced with decent shops. There are very many bookstores, which I appreciate, as the Jordanian culture historically has not been big on reading like the Iraqis, but there are so many nationalities living in Jordan that the retail is adapting. I passed through many chocolate stores, teas and spice shops, nut factories and elegantly wrapped sweets. I like going down alleyways and opening doors. I figure if there is a doorknob, it must be turned. If there is a button, it is there to be pressed. I have not qualms about trying an entrance because I often discover something exciting in the journey. As a tourist, you can often take risks that the average citizen would not do. I was impressed with the diversity of shops and the contents of some of the small shops seemed to be upgraded from the time I was here before. I will return this week to try a few more doorways and alleyways.

My steps led me to the Nymphaeum, the old Roman public baths. As there was no running water, the public would bathe in these places to be refreshed. In a place covered with dust and water resources scarce, a central gathering place like this served many public interest needs. The U.S. government has allocated some resources for rebuilding parts of this project, but I'm sure the archeology takes a lot of time. 

At the Nymphaeum, (what an intriguing word), if one looked up, you would see the Roman Citadel and the Columns of Heracles. I've been to outdoor concerts there and I saw the musical, The Sound of Music, with the columns illuminated and a cool breeze almost bringing the music to the heavens.

A few years from the Nymphaeum is the massive Roman Amphitheater. It is easy to tell that this is the downtown region for the Romans. It was the community gathering place built right into the side of the rock walls and overlooking a plateau where the sound carried easily. It was central part of the city. It is quite amazing that one can sit in the same seats where Roman citizens heard public lectures and caught up on news from the Empire. In a world of impermanence, these structures have endured for millenia.

Prayers and the Earth

The time in Jordan has been quite prayerful, but in a different way than I was expecting. I thought I would be praying more for people who are in need of prayers back home, and yes, I am doing that, but I feel like my prayer is somehow attached to the ground, to the soil, to the dust. I cannot articulate it yet. The sand and the earth are always nearby and one day it will claim all of our lives and so the matter of time feels much different here. Death is part of life, and we simply lives in happiness as best we can before the ancient aspect of the life cycle comes in due course. From dust we were created and to dust we shall return. 

Last year I did not have much time to grieve the losses in my life and I simply try to remember many of the good moments with deceased loved ones, but it is as if I'm not supposed to be grieving at this time, but to settle into the groundedness of the natural physical world around me. I wonder when I will grieve, or if I will. I'm dealing with the sadness of death so often and I believe in the Resurrection, and though I have moment of sadness, I'm not called to stay there. 

Maybe it is the magnitude of suffering in the world. I see precious stories in young people who are trying their best to be their best in studies, music, or whatever endeavor they are choosing. I like it when I see people trying to do better. I see precious stories in the way that women adopt children who are abandoned and in need and they accept the child as their own to give them the best shot in life. I see the hopes of parents and grandparents who are simply delighted that their children exist, especially when one of the children needs special care. I see people who try to make beauty in their little corner of the world, to have something of their own of which they can be proud. I see people who want to be seen or heard or known by another person, and their faces light up when someone acknowledges them or speaks to them.

Perhaps I'm too much of a dreamer, but I await the day when every individual has her or his moment, a moment of recognition, a moment of reversal, a moment of breakthrough when they know fundamentally how loved they are but another person, and that this love has the power to change the course of the world.I don't think it takes that much effort. It takes just deciding to accompany another person on the road just to be with the one you are with at the moment. We just accept where we are and who accompanies us.

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As it was our Christian Sabbath, it was a low key day. I decided to make Sunday dinner for the community and it was well received. We have some of Vivian's Quiche meat and vegetable pies, so I cooked them off for dinner and supper before they reached their expiration date. We had steak and mushroom, shepherd's pie, chicken pot, and vegetable pies. I also made some hor d'oeuvres of mini-cheese and min-asparagus quiches. We had some meat lasagne as warm overs and some chicken and potatoes. Emile prepared a salad and I heated up some rice and warmed up some bread. We finished our the chocolate cake with ice cream. Everyone seemed satisfied and we had nice conversations. We ate well, and I needed a walk. 

I've made the afternoon a time of study and writing so I can avoid the noonday heat. One problem is that I like to sleep. I must get to bed earlier but I feel wide awake from my walks. 

We had Mass for 18 people on Sunday night - a smaller group than most weeks, but Saturday was overflowing. The smaller group made it quite prayerful, and people seemed to like my homily. I spoke about the marvels of space and also the need for society to treat women better, more as equals. They seemed to really lean in when they heard those words. 

During the evening, I walked to Jebel Webdeih for some exercise. I cannot wait to get back home to get in a run in the morning once again. The village was packed. It was easy to spot the Americans, but somehow we do not speak. It is as if we want to blend in and be Arabic instead of American, but we do not hide our character well. I came home and did a little bit of sketching that I hope I can make into some watercolors. The first one will be basic because it is a simple monument in Baghdad. The others will be more intricate. If I do these well, maybe I'll do larger oil paintings for the Baghdad College community in Detroit and Chicago.  

Sleep is calling and it is going to win out. 

A Simple Day

As Sunday Mass is not held until 6:00 p.m. tonight, it was very easy to take a leisurely morning. It is like a Monday for people in the U.S., so it is nice to be relaxing when the rest of the world is busy about the return to the work week. I sat outdoors in the shade near a pomegranate tree and listened to the bird, the distinctive coo of the morning doves, and the chirping of sparrow-sized birds. 

As I was in a garden, I was thinking about how gardens appear in biblical stories so often. I can see that there are such pleasures in them, and I can also see that snakes might want to hide in the stone walls. The Gardens of Good and Evil. Mostly, the bountiful food of gardens and the fragrances of abundant fruit makes it enticing.

I'm not sure I'll make it to the place, but the gardens at the Pools of Hisban that are featured in the Song of Songs is nearby. A small brook runs through it, which is cool and refreshing and must have been a place of bathing and recreation. "Her eyes are like the Pools of Hisban."

Much of the Holy Land is contained in Jordan, and many people do not associate Jordan with the Bible, but it is where much of the Old Testament happened. Of course, most of the tribes of Jacob were situated in Palestine/Israel on the west bank of the Jordan River. 

Think: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob

            Moses, Joshua, the 40 years in the wilderness

            Elijah, Elisha, Tobit, the prophets, John the Baptist, the return home from exile

            Uriah the Hittite, Gilead, Isaiah, 

            Jesus of Nazareth spend time preaching, being baptized, praying in this region.

In the New Testament:

            The Baptism, Healings, Gerasene Demoniac, the early fathers after the Temple's fall.

            Sea of Galilee, the early Creed, many historical churches in the 2-4th centuries.

Anyways, it was simply a place rich with historical remembrances.

Yesterday was quite full of presence. I had an Iraqi friend and his wife from the States come for a two hour visit. It was a pleasure to hear their updates. They are on their way to Baghdad now. They have invited me, and I'll make sure I get there at some point. 

I drove to Mass in Sweifieh. The roads are the same but the markers are all different. I remember many of the places, but I could not be sure I was in the right place. There are fewer English signs that I remember, and it make the trek just a little precarious. I made it though. The roads in Amman are good; the people simply have a different way of using space than we do in the U.S. For an American who likes law and order, don't bother to come here because you might not understand the people's relationship to space and boundaries. You will become frustrated or you will learn to loosen up with your propensity to control.

Mass was filled. Just as Mass began, 20 Nigerians entered and sat in the back. They were on pilgrimage, and they wore such colorful clothing. I saw some friends from long ago, and we had many children attending mass. It was a good spirit. After mass, I had dinner at a friend's house and then came back to Jebel Hussein to attend a gathering where my original art teacher was present. It was good to spend time with him. 

When I came home, I went to my room, and by the time my head hit the pillow, I was out for the duration.

        

            

A balloon on a stick

Yesterday was a full, but relaxing day. After saying Mass, we cleaned the chapel and rearranged the sacramental items that piled up over time. It was simply a casual day because it was quiet outside as it is the Islamic equivalent to a Sunday. I had enough projects to do so I didn't mind having a low-key day.

I feel so bad for the people in Europe who are enduring a monster heat wave. Fortunately, it is quite temperate in the MidEast. Europe is seeing unprecedented heat for this time of year. I realize the U.S. is also in drought conditions in many areas. Looking at the maps is quite frightening. Thankfully, we are quite moderate in our weather patterns in Jordan. 

Though drove the streets in Amman for two years, the Superior wanted to accompany on my first drive in one of the Center's cars. That was fine. The roads would not be jammed with traffic because of the day off, so we drove down to the downtown area, which has become rather hip. We avoided the heart of the downtown because we just wanted to go out for a short ride, but the area is looking quite smart with new decorations, signage, and for the variety of markets. I'll have to spend an evening down there to see some of the Roman ruins and to glance at the restaurant scene.

We passed by First Circle and Rainbow Street, which is equivalent to the Old Town Main Street. At one end, there are local restaurants with plenty of shi-sha and street falafel. At the other end, the more trendy restaurants and hotels are situated to overlook the Temple of Heracles and the Roman ruins. I was disappointed to learn that my favorite bookstore, Caffe Strada, had closed. It had nice pastries, good coffee, and was non-smoking except for a designated small courtyard area. They also sold current English-language books.

While most people hang out on Rainbow Street, I find there are many pottery shops and other interesting shops on the side-streets. It is a big breakfast place with many restaurants preparing flour pancakes with syrup. There are a few bookstores and art galleries that make it worthwhile, and WildJordan, a tourist agency with lots of things to do inside there store, is on one of the sidestreets.

We passed by St. Joseph's church near First Circle where I used to say Mass on Sundays. The Filipino community has been unable to attend church there since COVID in 2020, and they will be allowed back on August 7th. It will be interesting to see if anyone returns because the Filipinos have shifted to other churches in the area. The compound has a food club and a clerical shirt shore, so many people come to have a nice meal and some recreation time.

By the way, it is still an adjustment to use Jordanian Denari and currency. I was so used to it years ago, but now I have to get used to it again. Many things are just slightly different. For example, if someone sets up for mass, the person will have the book flipped over as if you have finished reading it. It is backwards to e, but as they read from right to left, they set it up in a way they think will be helpful to me.

We had a short coffee with the young pastor of St. Joseph. He was quite welcoming and hospitable. We talked a lot about the future of the local church in the Kingdom. The seminary had to close because they had three applicants during the time of COVID.

I came home in time to meet up with the Filipino community after they said their Sunday mass. We met at the Pontifical Library run by the Teresians. It was a nice time together. It was good to see them after so many years. One woman told me that when I was here in the past that she was single but now she is married. She introduced me to her husband. I asked, "How is married life going?", and he replied, "It is very hard." She nodded and said, "Father, it is hard." Most of the Filipinos are domestic workers and many are not treated with great dignity in their workplaces. There is little time to process what happens to them each day, so if they do not get a chance to talk about it as they get home, those frustrations can build. Mostly, at work, a person doesn't have much freedom. Many of them live with their employers and do not get a chance to build a life independent from them and a situation of dependency and codependency builds. 

Sometimes the beauty is just in hearing the stories of the people that they tell you little bits over time. You hear of their resilience, their worldview based on endurance, and the hope they have for the future. The stories are touching and beautiful in their own right, and unfortunately, most of the world does not give time to hear those stories. It is a grace to simply sit with people and accompany them. Pope Francis often talks about a culture of encounter in which we meet "a people." This is what he means. He wants some groups of people to be seen, to be known, to be treated with mercy, and to be valued and cared for in the way that one deserves.

I'm listening to the ways the Jordanians refer to Pope Francis or if they do at all because Church in the Middle East is a different reality than in the West. Church here is often one of a discriminated against minority, but often when they have authority, they use it as the others do. Christians are at their best when they are kind, tolerant, and welcoming, like that old song goes, "You will know we are Christians by our..." We have to decide who we want to be.

At the end of lunch, four young teenagers played guitars for us. They sang, "Country Roads" by John Denver, "Hotel California" by The Eagles, "Downtown" by Petula Clark, and "Yellow Bird," a Jamaican hymn that Harry Belafonte sang. I'm sure they sang more but we had to be on our way. When we left everyone was dancing, clapping, and singing, and you really see the pride in the eyes of the teens who were performing. We left joyfully.

For the evening meal, the Jesuit community assembled for a discussion on the future of the Jesuit Centre in Amman. We knew we were meeting with a well-established Iraqi the next day and that it might be a topic of conversation. It was a pleasant conversation.

I then took at 2 mile walk to Al Abdali mall where I could read a book that I brought with me. I went inside the mall and was walking to a seat when I saw a toddler girl sitting with an old man, maybe her grandfather. She dropped her balloon on a stick and I picked it up for her and gave it to her. She smiled wider than I ever experienced. She was so happy. I waved and she beamed. I went to take my chair and I noticed a shadow after I read the first page and it was the old man who waved to me and the little girl squealed with delight. We exchanged a few words and they left. Two minutes later, a number of people are standing around me. It is the same man with the girl and a bunch of other woman. They all came over to wave "bye-bye" and they went home happy.

I sat and read for a while, took in the moment as people were pleased to be spending time in leisure, and the world seemed like it was in a good place for the night.

It was getting late, about 11 p.m., so I put a few marks on paper and I started creating a stairwell in Amman. I got hooked and I finished a quick painting/drawing that seemed joyful to me. I've attached it. All seemed to be okay in the world tonight.