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Wednesday, 8 April 2015
Saturday, 4 April 2015
Easter.
Its 3 30 am in Australia on Easter Sunday. The moon is full, and just out of a total eclipse. My transgender friend, Sophia, (she calls herself a ladyboy) has just Skyped me from her village in the the Philippines. It is 1 30 am there.
She is up early to walk with other members of the Trans community in her village to the church of St Raphael to participate in the Easter Sunday parade. The parade starts 4 am, but because there is no transportation on Easter Sunday ( everything in her village has been closed down since Wednesday afternoon) they have to walk for an hour or so to get to the church.
Sophia is helping her friend to dress and parade a statue of Mary, sister of Martha and Lazarus and, because today is the day Jesus rises from the dead, their statue will be dressed in colourful clothes. The priest scolded the people who paraded St Susannah on Good Friday because she was not dressed appropriately. There are protocols for everything.
The parade on Good Friday was so big that it took 4 hours to complete. There were 37 saints paraded on Good Friday. There will be more today. The aura of sacrifice is powerful. Sacrifice of sleep, money, of selfish pleasure. The village, and the town where the church is located, are very poor. Both would be called slums in Australia. Over there there they are called "affordable housing projects for the urban poor". The sacrifices are real and keenly felt.
I am not a Christian. In fact I am strongly opposed to the church because of its role in Trans and Gay discrimination. How then do i explain the feeling of hope that comes over me as I talk to my friend.
My sacrifice begins and ends with waking to answer her call.
My life is comfortable and sacrifice would barely disturb that.
I am challenged by her demonstration of faith. I do not know how to respond, so i write this to express my awe.
Christ has risen. There is a new hope in the world!
She is up early to walk with other members of the Trans community in her village to the church of St Raphael to participate in the Easter Sunday parade. The parade starts 4 am, but because there is no transportation on Easter Sunday ( everything in her village has been closed down since Wednesday afternoon) they have to walk for an hour or so to get to the church.
Sophia is helping her friend to dress and parade a statue of Mary, sister of Martha and Lazarus and, because today is the day Jesus rises from the dead, their statue will be dressed in colourful clothes. The priest scolded the people who paraded St Susannah on Good Friday because she was not dressed appropriately. There are protocols for everything.
The parade on Good Friday was so big that it took 4 hours to complete. There were 37 saints paraded on Good Friday. There will be more today. The aura of sacrifice is powerful. Sacrifice of sleep, money, of selfish pleasure. The village, and the town where the church is located, are very poor. Both would be called slums in Australia. Over there there they are called "affordable housing projects for the urban poor". The sacrifices are real and keenly felt.
I am not a Christian. In fact I am strongly opposed to the church because of its role in Trans and Gay discrimination. How then do i explain the feeling of hope that comes over me as I talk to my friend.
My sacrifice begins and ends with waking to answer her call.
My life is comfortable and sacrifice would barely disturb that.
I am challenged by her demonstration of faith. I do not know how to respond, so i write this to express my awe.
Christ has risen. There is a new hope in the world!
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