The Sunday before I left for Nairobi I had the blessing and pleasure of celebrating Mass for the Catholic community of Helio, a village about 10 km outside of Torit heading into the mountains to the south. The community had just a few days before experienced two deaths: one, of a young mother whose unborn baby died in her womb and could not be removed surgically before it caused her death as well, and another, of a 6 month old baby who died of complications related to diarrhea. I was able to visit both families after Mass.
The village is, of course, very poor, and the Catholic community fledgling. Mass is celebrated – as in many places in Africa – under a large tree for want of a church. The site is surrounded by former school buildings which were damaged in the war. I celebrated Mass in English, and my homily was translated into Lotuko; I preached on the reasons for confidence which the readings of the 6th Sunday of Easter spoke: the love of the Father, our friendship with Jesus, the gift of the Holy Spirit, and the special role and authority of the apostle Peter. The music was sung in the local tribal language, accompanied by drums.
I was there just two days after the 15th anniversary of my ordination, and I experienced a new dimension of my priesthood that day. What was most moving was the way that the heart and essence of our lives as Catholics, expressed most fully in the Eucharist, and my role as a priest, stood out all the more clearly in those stark circumstances.
The photos below show the boys I found playing soccer when I arrived, a group of men building a tukul beneath a tree, two young boys posing together, a ruined school room, the chapel under the tree, the church bell (a part from an old vehicle) and a few scenes from Mass.
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