Author: ANTONINO

(bernardinodandrade@gmail.com)

Rememberance Sunday

A couple from the UK who attended Mass here at the Chapel two weeks ago during their holiday in Madeira, told me about a special day that is celebrated in the UK every year in November. I asked Yvonne to write me something about this special day called “Rememberance Sunday”. Yvonne told me that Remembrance Day/Sunday is a big event in the UK and people hold the tradition, and what it stands for, very dear to their hearts. At 11am, during this mass, there will be 2 minutes of silence, just as there is in the UK today.
Love and Peace,
Fr. Bernardino Andrade
PS. I asked Yvonne to write something about this day for the newsletter. Here is what she sent me:

Remembrance Sunday (10.11.19)

Remembrance Sunday – a day for private and public recollection.
The origins of Remembrance Sunday celebrations lie deep within the First World War.

The history of Remembrance Sunday.

The end of the First World War came with Armistice Day, which is now honoured with our Remembrance Day celebrations. Arms were laid down at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month of the year, an arbitrary moment chosen to end the four years of turmoil that had spread across Europe, but a moment that has become embedded in everyone’s consciousness since then. Remembrance Day is now an instantly recognisable date. Remembrance Sunday ever since has commemorated and celebrated the contribution to the war effort and victory made by British and Commonwealth troops, not only in the First World War but in the many conflicts, small and large since. The Queen and royal family, politicians, the man and woman in the street all take part in marking Remembrance Sunday.

When and where Remembrance Sunday is celebrated.

Across Britain, Remembrance Day falls on the second Sunday in November, the nearest Sunday to November 11th. From the main ceremonies at London’s Whitehall Cenotaph to small village greens across the United Kingdom, parades and church services take place to mark Remembrance Sunday. Nations of the Commonwealth, from Australia to the other side of the globe, also hold their own Remembrance Day celebrations honouring their dead from the conflicts of the World Wars.

How Remembrance Sunday is celebrated.

Wearing a red poppy is the most immediately recognisable mark of Remembrance Day. Parades and processions, ending with wreaths of poppies being laid at Cenotaphs and memorials across the length and breadth of the land are used to mark Remembrance Day. Starting at 11 a.m. on Remembrance Day a two minute silence is held, creating an unforgettable impression when the thousands of people in London to the few score in a small village all fall silent. This silence reminds us of when the guns across Europe fell silent. Veteran soldiers down to young children all take part in, or watch, the parades and processions, the military march pasts and the bands that mark this very special day, Remembrance Day.

‘Let Us Remember Them’

The First World War was meant to be, “the war to end all wars” – it never did. As all nationalities come together here in beautiful Madeira, during our two minutes silence, let us remember all who have lost their lives and those who suffer, in war and conflict, across the world.

by Fr. Bernardino Andrade
(bernardinodandrade@gmail.com)

My sister Matilde left home when she was fourteen years old. We were eleven brothers and sisters, and with my father and mother we were a family of 13. Living poorly in a poor neighbourhood we didn’t even know that we were poor. All the neighbours had the same life-style: no running water, no electricity, no streets. I consider my family a happy family. We had something that unfortunately has now been lost: All the neighbours helped each other. If one had no salt or sugar or a tool to do a certain job, a child would be sent to the neighbour’s house and would borrow what was necessary. Even a loaf of bread or a match, or a piece of live coal that was needed to start the necessary fire to cook.

I had two aunts working in the city, in a house of a rich family. They thought that taking my sister to the city to work with them would be helping the family. It would be one less mouth in the house to be fed. This was an event in her life that Matilde never understood. But we loved her so much and we felt as if she had been promoted to a better life. She was always very well-dressed; she would wear shoes every day, and she was very well fed. Besides this, she was extremely beautiful.

It seems that Madeira Island is small, but my sister would visit us only once a year… for Christmas. When she visited us it was a celebration in the family. We loved her very much and she loved her family. Matilde grew up and got married with a boy who lived even farther away from us. After three girls were born, all her family emigrated to Brazil where she dedicated her life to her family and to the poor, where she performed «little miracles» working with the priests of her parish and deeply involved in a national program of the Brazilian Bishops to work with very destitute children.

The first time I visited Brazil it was in 1983. Close to her house there was what they call «Favelas» or shanty towns. When I visited those shanty towns with my sister and the parish priests, I didn’t see «poverty». I only saw «misery». Pope Francis calls «misery» «poverty without hope». That’s what I saw. The last time that I visited Brazil, that «shanty town» had been transformed into a little town with beautiful little houses, with running water, with electricity, with a church and a school.

Matilde had a Bible group that used to meet every Wednesday. It was from that Bible group that this movement was born, and one day I was so proud to see Matilde leading a group of women to the city hall with big posters where three things were written to present to the authorities: «WATER» – «ELECTRICITY» -«SAFETY WITHOUT VIOLENCE».

It was Easter Sunday. I had a fax machine and she already had a fax machine too. Matilde sent me a fax wishing me Happy Easter and asked me to «forgive» her. I sent her a message back thanking her for her Easter greetings but at the end I added: «Matilde, I can love you, I can help you and support you but there is one thing that I cannot do. I cannot forgive you». Matilde got very confused with my fax, and started talking with her children «why can’t your uncle forgive me? What did I do?». Finally she wrote back to me, sounding a little sad and asked me: «What did I do that you cannot forgive?» And my answer was: «Matilde, if you want me to forgive you, you have to offend me first. And what happens is that you’ve never offended me». Forgiveness would be easier to understand if we realized that unless someone offends us, we cannot know what it is to forgive them. It doesn’t make any sense when we say that «I cannot forgive him / her because he offended me». Love is for everyone. Forgiveness is only for those who offend us.”

Love and Peace, FROM MY HEART TO YOUR HEART by Fr. Bernardino Andrade
(bernardinodandrade@gmail.com)

I COULDN’T FORGIVE MY SISTER
My sister Matilde left home when she was fourteen years old. We were eleven brothers and sisters, and with my father and mother we were a family of 13. Living poorly in a poor neighbourhood we didn’t even know that we were poor. All the neighbours had the same life-style: no running water, no electricity, no streets. I consider my family a happy family. We had something that unfortunately has now been lost: All the neighbours helped each other. If one had no salt or sugar or a tool to do a certain job, a child would be sent to the neighbour’s house and would borrow what was necessary. Even a loaf of bread or a match, or a piece of live coal that was needed to start the necessary fire to cook.
I had two aunts working in the city, in a house of a rich family. They thought that taking my sister to the city to work with them would be helping the family. It would be one less mouth in the house to be fed. This was an event in her life that Matilde never understood. But we loved her so much and we felt as if she had been promoted to a better life. She was always very well-dressed; she would wear shoes every day, and she was very well fed. Besides this, she was extremely beautiful. It seems that Madeira Island is small, but my sister would visit us only once a year… for Christmas. When she visited us it was a celebration in the family. We loved her very much and she loved her family. Matilde grew up and got married with a boy who lived even farther away from us. After three girls were born, all her family emigrated to Brazil where she dedicated her life to her family and to the poor, where she performed «little miracles» working with the priests of her parish and deeply involved in a national program of the Brazilian Bishops to work with very destitute children. The first time I visited Brazil it was in 1983. Close to her house there was what they call «Favelas» or shanty towns. When I visited those shanty towns with my sister and the parish priests, I didn’t see «poverty». I only saw «misery». Pope Francis calls «misery» «poverty without hope». That’s what I saw. The last time that I visited Brazil, that «shanty town» had been transformed into a little town with beautiful little houses, with running water, with electricity, with a church and a school. Matilde had a Bible group that used to meet every Wednesday. It was from that Bible group that this movement was born, and one day I was so proud to see Matilde leading a group of women to the city hall with big posters where three things were written to present to the authorities: «WATER» – «ELECTRICITY» -«SAFETY WITHOUT VIOLENCE».
It was Easter Sunday. I had a fax machine and she already had a fax machine too. Matilde sent me a fax wishing me Happy Easter and asked me to «forgive» her. I sent her a message back thanking her for her Easter greetings but at the end I added: «Matilde, I can love you, I can help you and support you but there is one thing that I cannot do. I cannot forgive you». Matilde got very confused with my fax, and started talking with her children «why can’t your uncle forgive me? What did I do?».

Finally she wrote back to me, sounding a little sad and asked me: «What did I do that you cannot forgive?» And my answer was: «Matilde, if you want me to forgive you, you have to offend me first. And what happens is that you’ve never offended me». Forgiveness would be easier to understand if we realized that unless someone offends us, we cannot know what it is to forgive them. It doesn’t make any sense when we say that «I cannot forgive him / her because he offended me». Love is for everyone. Forgiveness is only for those who offend us.”

Love and Peace,

Filomena, (her true name) was a young widow with three little young girls. With no studies, she has been one of the best lay leaders when I worked with the Portuguese Immigrant Community in California. We had the same vision especially about involving many people to help and mobilize many people. My vision was that I would prefer one thing badly done by ten people than well done by one person only. When we had any big event she would form three groups under the title of «Before», «During» and «After». The group «Before» was in charge of preparing the event. It could take hours, days or even months. The group «During» was in charge of working during the event. The group «After» was in charge of cleaning the mess and organizing everything that had been used, and leaving the place in good condition.

I admired her leadership skills, but what I most admired was her faith and her dependency on God. That was one of the things that most inspired me.

One of many little experiences that touched my faith was when she shared with us the way she dealt with the nightmares of her oldest daughter, Fernanda.

It was not uncommon that Fernanda, all of a sudden, during the night, would start calling her when everybody was asleep. «Mom», she would say, «I can’t sleep. I am afraid. I am seeing things on the wall». Mom would answer: «That is nothing. Try to sleep. I need to work tomorrow and you need to go to school. There is nothing bad in your room. Please sleep». But nothing would convince her daughter to stop disturbing all the family. Until one day Filomena found a trick that would solve any problem with any of her nightmares.

When Fernanda started being nervous because she was «seeing things», Filomena would simply say: «My daughter… please sleep because your mom is awake». It was like magic. Fernanda would start sleeping immediately and it didn’t take any time she was already snoring. She knew her mother was awake. She felt protected. She had nothing to fear.

It reminds me of the Portuguese hymn that we sing once in a while at our English Mass that goes like this: «I found God by surprise». In the Bible, God says for 365 times the words: «Do not be afraid because I am with you». It is like saying: «My son, relax… rejoice… rest… because I am awake. I am with you. I am protecting you. Remember that you are my son».

Love and Peace,
Fr. Bernardino Andrade

by Fr. Bernardino Andrade
(bernardinodandrade@gmail.com)

Father Mata was my Spiritual Director during my time in the Seminary. He was a man of short sermons, short sentences, deep spirituality and crucifying love for the poor. He was a living Saint. I always wanted to be like him but I have been far away from my desire. Maybe because I resisted in paying the price that he paid.

«There is no gain without pain».

One of his short sentences that left prints in my heart was

«Gratitude and humility are two irresistible virtues».

I would add that «Ingratitude and pride are two of the most hurting and disturbing shortcomings in any relationship».

Today’s Gospel (28th Sunday of the Year C) tells the story of ten lepers healed by Jesus. Nine of them kept on going. Only one of them came back and told Jesus “thank you”. Jesus felt hurt and had the courage to open his heart and ask

«Were not all of ten made clean? The other nine where are they?»

Ingratitude hurts.

2.

A little boy fell off a pier into deep ocean water. An older sailor, heedless of the great danger to himself, dove into the stormy water, struggled with the boy, and finally, exhausted, brought him to safety. Two days later, the boy’s mother came with him to the same pier, seeking the sailor who had rescued her son. Finding him, she asked: «You dove into the ocean to bring my boy out?» «I did,» he replied. The mother angrily demanded: «Then where’s his hat?».

3.

An old woman was in an extended-care hospital. She had some kind of wasting disease, her different powers fading away over the space of months. A young student happened to meet her on a coincidental visit. The student kept going back, drawn by the strange force of the woman’s joy. Though she could no longer move her arms and legs, she would say: «I’m just so happy and grateful to God that I can move my neck». When she could no longer move her neck, she would say: «I am so glad and thankful I can hear and see». When the young student finally asked the old woman what would happen if she lost her senses of hearing and sight, the gentle lady said:

«I’ll just be so grateful that you come to visit».

Love and Peace, Fr. Bernardino Andrade