1939 Irish Far East magazine. The photo was taken on March 25th 1939 on the day the first members of the new congregation of sisters made their profession. Photo: Dan Troy
One part of Wuhan city is the district of Hanyang, a modern expanding area where many factories are located at its outer edges. In previous times, this was the centre of the Columban mission in China, an area defined by the intersection of the Han River and the enormous Yangtze River, the first group of Columban missionaries arriving by ship in 1920.
In the 1930s Bishop Edward Galvin founded a Chinese congregation of sisters to assist in the work of the diocese. A substantial building project was initiated, eventually resulting in a convent, a school and a chapel, each having commendable architectural style.
The painful disruption of Church life that took place in China in the late 1940s eventually led to a tearful Bishop Galvin giving his beloved Chinese sisters a dispensation from their vows so that they could return to life among their families or in wider society.
If we are looking for an example of a Lenten abandoning of what was cherished by people, that letting go of a way of life by Bishop Galvin and the Chinese religious sisters stands out as a monumental sacrifice forced upon them by the unpredictable events of history. For them, it was a heart-wrenching turning upside down of a dedicated way of life, those torturous days arriving within a few short years of the end of World War II, those years after the war being just a minor reprieve in the troubled world that people in China were living through.
Bishop Galvin’s departure from China in 1952 involved a long slow train journey to Hong Kong. Prior to his departure, as he walked out of the grounds of St. Columban’s Cathedral, he entrusted the Diocese of Hanyang to the care of Our Lady.
In the late 1980s, as religious reforms gradually emerged in China, a few members of the disbanded congregation of sisters, older in years but firm in faith, arrived at the cathedral with their meagre posessions. They broke the lock to a simple outhouse and set about re-establishing their community life of prayer and service.
25 years ago I had the privilege of getting to meet three of those sisters and during the next few years regularly sat with them for Saturday lunch, the occasional story about Bishop Galvin also providing a link to former times. Even in the final months of her life, Sr. Li Fenfang, who died in 2019 at the age of 99, would still shed tears as she described how Bishop Galvin spoke to each sister as he gave them permission to leave the congregation as storm clouds gathered.
Although elderly and poor in the early 1990s, those sisters gradually welcomed young women to their community. Since that time, educational opportunities have seen many of the younger sisters doing study which is now benefitting them in the pastoral ministry of the Church in this part of China.
A surprising development of recent years is that the convent, school and chapel of the 1930s, although no longer in the possession of the Church, have recently been declared historic buildings by the civic authorities. Nicely renovated and now functioning as coffee shops, a bread shop and a restaurant, the presence of these buildings must be pointing towads some level of divine intervention or preservation so many years after they were constructed for the work of the Church
Each time I bring people to see these buildings, I am aware that this is a story that is still unfolding. What began more than 80 years ago as buildings for a community of sisters serving the Church in central China, is now a place that stands as a witness to a way of life that has experienced huge changes. For those who are aware of the lives of the people connected with these buildings, there will be no underestimating the sacrifices made in former times.
In today’s first reading, Abram is invited to leave what is familiar to him, following God’s plan for something that is not yet visible to human eyes. However, as today’s psalm reminds us, God’s works can be trusted, something reinforced in today’s letter from St. Paul to Timothy where we are told that hardships can be carried for the sake of the Good News.
As we begin the second full week of our Lenten pilgrimage, seeking to be faithful to the Church’s invitation to penance, prayer and almsgiving, the image of those old buildings in modern-day Wuhan can speak to us about the mysterious slow cycles of change that are possible in our lives.
With God’s patient involvement, something new can emerge, something different to before and yet connected with it, something that reflects what Peter, James and John witnessed when they went up the mountain as described in today’s gospel, an experience that changed them as they received a brief view into the immense mystery of Jesus. Those precious moments changed their lives and providing them with a hope that would never be extinguished.
In our own lives, whether it be the experiences of Peter, James and John who witnessed the Transfiguration of Jesus, or the experiences of those faithful elderly sisters who lived through so much in China, or the witness of family members and friends who have been models of discipleship in our fragile world, our journey through the wilderness is made easier by knowing that others have walked this path before us. As people of a shared faith, we can trust that God will be faithful to us during these weeks, assuring us that our journey through the wilderness will eventually allow us to see the light of the Risen Christ further along this road.
Columban Fr Dan Troy lives and works in China.
