For over 400 years, Jesuits and their colleagues have had a presence in Canada.  Today they work coast to coast –  from Vancouver to St.John's.  In this series igNation invites you to join us as we travel across Canada stopping at cities where there are Jesuit apostolates to read personal reflections about the city and the work being done there.  Today we end our journey with a visit to St. John's, Newfoundland.

My St. John’s is where the Spirit of God chooses to play.  If the Holy Spirit exists in the wind, then she spends her days here, whispering through the trees in the summertime, or frolicking at 60-100 km/hr in the winter months, throwing snow all over the city, sometimes piling it so high, it can reach the top of the door. The energy of the Spirit is felt as reality here in the wind which rarely leaves. 

My St. John’s is where Jesus would have had a wonderful time sharing a meal with his friends.  Yes there are many fine restaurants, but even more bars, the most famous today being the Irish pub O’Reilly’s, voted Canada’s favourite bar in Canada in En Route magazine last year.  Jesus could have a beer with many a cheerful sinner willing to listen. 

My favourite restaurant is still Bacalao (Portuguese for “salt fish”), where they use local ingredients to create modern-day versions of Newfoundland cuisine.  Jesus would meet a people with an energetic friendliness, virtually blind to race, colour or creed; with a defiant and proud love of their music, art and literature; and with a realistic but not cowardly respect for the elements, which can harm both property and people.

My St. John’s is where God the Father put heaven as close to earth as he could, while keeping it shrouded in rain, drizzle and fog so no one outside can figure it out.  I can pick handfuls of wild blueberries as big as my little finger a 20 minute walk from my house, on Signal Hill, upon which Marconi sent the first trans-Atlantic wireless signal.  I can walk 5 minutes to Rennies’ River, and fish for trout that I can have for lunch.  I can walk trails that go forever in the city itself, some along Signal Hill where I can hear the roar of  the Atlantic Ocean, some in the inner city along one of the many ponds or rivers,  where I can hear a different water singing along with many birds.

My St, John’s holds a people with a depth of hurt that has been hard to overcome.  The credibility of the Church and its God was destroyed, leaving a people who so highly valued their religion devastated and disillusioned. With time, these wounds have been healing, and St. Bonaventure’s College, whose rising from the ashes came from the secret meetings of a small group of inspired but stubborn people who partnered with the Jesuits, is now a well-respected school focused on academic rigour, the performing arts, and most importantly on forming men and women for others. 

The school has grown so much that its biggest challenge is what Fr. Winston Rye had predicted shortly after the College re-opened.  It’s running out of room.  There you will find students who have learned to “love not in word or speech, but in deed and truth.” Alumni have been as far as India,Nepal, and the Middle East, working with persons less fortunate, even enslaved.

My St. John’s youth can awaken to the love God always has for them.  I teach Sunday School for grades 4,5 and 6 at St. Pius X Parish, the Jesuits’ other enterprise in St. John’s.  I have been teaching them aspects of the Spiritual Exercises, and when we read the Gospel, they listen and individually find phrases and words which are inspired by the Spirit. 

During the application of the senses to the baptism of Jesus, the group became so engrossed in the scene that when God spoke, and when I asked what would happen next, one young man blurted out, “Well, I would say that everyone there would have wet themselves…no seriously!”  My Sunday School children will survive this world better knowing God really is always at their side, and they can call with just a whisper.

My St. John’s is searching for something beyond the world, for spiritual direction, a call that St. Pius X helps answer.  The growing attendance at our youth Mass, and the establishment of a new Catholic chaplaincy at Memorial University later this year are signs of these times.  There are still the growing number of refugees, the elderly shut-ins, the youth who had no denominational education, who are searching.

My St. John’s provides my spiritual nourishment.  My group that did the Spiritual Exercises with Fr. Len Altilia years ago still meets every two weeks during the school year, every week during Advent and Lent.  We share readings that have inspired us, find relevance for our everyday lives within them, and find God in all things. If only others could understand even the little we know of God’s infinite love, how much joy would they realize.  Everyone who follows the Way should share in that joy.

My St. John’s really is like no other place else on earth.

Just like everywhere else.