My boyhood’s chore of lighting the morning fire always engenders a sense of wonderment.
During the long hours of the night, yesterday’s evening fire had smouldered down to charcoal and white ash even to the point of being able to touch the still warm surface. I soon learnt that by removing the top layers glowing embers remained below and a few small wood shavings and dry deal wood smoke for a while and then all would suddenly burst into flame. The new day’s fire, food and warmth for the family, was alive. The embers of yesterday had been rekindled.
What a wonderful word is Kindle! Its origins lie in the Old English words to light up, to glow and then to give birth to, and so relating it very much to ‘Kinder’, of the young.
As we travel our life’s road it is a difficult thing to maintain intensity and enthusiasm for most things. Religion and the spiritual are no exceptions. The passage of time, custom and ingrained habits, slowly consumes our highest ideals leaving but the embers to smoulder. There must be rekindling times in our life, when we fan the dying embers into flame: times when our yesterday’s experiences give birth to warmth and renewed well-being.
Some years ago I spent time in a rural hospital sharing a ward with two timber workers who were convalescing from an accident in a remote area. As often happens, on learning my identity they began remembering their boyhood religious experiences.
Both has been altar servers and to my amazement that after so many years they still remembered the Latin responses. Yes. “Ad Deum qui laetificat, juventutum meum”, they intoned together. It triggered other distant memories of first communion and confirmation days, visits of the bishop and different priests, then great parish picnics.
Ah, how the memories flowed! After a long period of thoughtful silence one said, "Strange isn’t, Bill that after all the years away from it, the Church is still a part of us.” Bill replied, “I was thinking the same thing myself but given the overall good life we have led, it has probably been in the background, influencing us all the time.”
As the night’s quietness settled, long did I ponder those words. How very true! What contentment can be had by rekindled childhood memories which have been submerged beneath the pressing moments of daily realities? Often on the long road of life rekindled memories become signposts back to God.
I remember an old Irish priest often saying to errant members of his flock, “Wander as much you like, my lads, but at least in your hearts you will die a Catholic.” With a backhanded compliment, an Anglican Archdeacon quipped, "You Romans, have got it all over us, At least till they die your people always remember what church they stay away from."
We often invoke the presence of the Holy Spirit among us as a rekindling force “Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and rekindle in them the fire of your love.” Let such a rekindling, be a fanning into flame of the embers of our past spiritual fervour, a rediscovery of the depth of our spiritual heritage, a rebirth of ardour and vigour.
Fr Frank Freeman SDB is the Editor the Salesian Bulletin.
Read more articles from the current E-News