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It is not what you are nor what you have been that God sees with
all merciful eyes,
but what you desire to be.
The Cloud of Unknowing
There
is something wanting in education where a child has not had its share of
leisure, to be rapt in silence and alone…
Janet Stuart rscJ
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Mary Lou Moorhead
22.05.1937 - 08.07.2005
Mary Lou’s free
spirit sometimes belied the depth of her spirituality.
Recently she
wrote: “Spirituality is about connectedness and relationships. When I speak
about my spirituality I am referring to my con nectedness to and my relationships
with myself, the other, the earth and the sacred.”
This was the Mary
Lou I knew, connected to whatever was alive around her or wherever life was
being threatened. As artist she found inspiration in the beauty and the
awesomeness of nature; as poet she depthed through telling imagery the mystery
of the Incarnation in the everyday; as a religious woman and gifted educator she
was deeply committed to bringing the liberating love of Christ wherever she was
– to the refugees in Nepal, to the students in Japan, Korea, the Solomons or
Australia; to the ecumenical work of union and communion across the world.
She was especially
committed to working for Peace and Reconciliation. In 2004 she represented
Australia at an International meeting of Pax Christi and put before that world
forum the urgent needs of Aboriginal Health and Education. At a local level she
was a committed and loved member of St Vincent’s, Redfern. “Spirituality of
peace,” she wrote recently, “refers to a challenging – even confrontational –
dimension of spirituality because it cannot be – doesn’t exist – unless it faces
the truth of the relationships and the justice within situations. It protests
against the illusion that we are separate from one another – that we are
individuals who happen to be thrown together in particular times – each looking
after our own individual interests. Rather it says: ‘Affirm the connectedness
because there in that relationship is life and love, caring concern and an
energy that leads to action’.”
How much we shall
miss that energy in our work on the Provincial Committee for Justice and Peace!
Her passion was unvarying. She would spring to when action was called for and
really cared that her RSCJ sisters would have the best chance to contribute in
however small a way. She was uncompromising, straight as an arrow, yet always
aware of nurturing relationships and sowing seeds of peace and reconciliation.
Mary Lou faced
death with such courage and honesty. One of the staff at Karlaminda who cared
for her so lovingly has given this beautiful tribute. ”The experience of
nursing Mary Lou in the final few weeks and days of her life has been one of the
most privileged experiences that I have had as a nurse and as a friend. Never
in all the years of nursing people have I had the experience that I had in Mary
Lou’s presence. It was a sense of really feeling God present among and around
us. As Mary Lou lay dying, there was a warmth that filled the room, a sense
that the strong faith of Mary Lou was emanating from her to us, the staff caring
for her and, I am sure, to the rest of the community.”
Mary Lou went like
an arrow to her God. May she continue to be an ambassador of justice, peace and
care for our beautiful but wounded earth.
Marnie Kennedy RSCJ
A TRIBUTE TO A DEAR FRIEND
We were
going to celebrate our birthday together this year. It was going to be
possible, because we would be both there at the ASCA Conference
We had
discovered this felicitous coincidence of birthdays in Tokyo, in the early 70’s,
when Mary Lou came for a year to teach in the International School, and I was
then looking after the Senior School. Together we formed ⅓ of the community,
and our birthday was easily a community event. Even then I could not help
noticing how she found time for the odd tennis practice. And even then I
noticed how open she was to experience that which is different. How almost
hungry she was to learn from outside a familiar cultural context. And how
unafraid she was, and how respectful she was, of others. This was of course,
all expressed in that light-hearted Aussie way.
She was
much shyer then. This was long before she was secretary to the Victoria Council
of Churches for five years, hobnobbing with religious worthies internationally.
Long before she was education consultant with the VSO in the Solomon Islands,
where she walked everywhere, like the natives. And long before her heart was
won over by the Bhutanese children whom she taught many things, including
sports, in the Nepalese Refugee Camp. And she had self-confidence enough to
struggle and teach English in our Korean School for a short stretch only last
year. I am sure that she learnt as much as she taught there, but then this is
the sort of equation in life in which she delighted.
She had
such gifts, but when situations made her aware of her limitations, she did not
become self-conscious, but only more avid to receive from the other. The desire
for example, to work in Africa in the wake of the Rwanda
tragedy was only foiled by her medical unfitness. The optometrist pointed out
that her problematic eyes stood no chances in that world of dust. But the large
heart throbbed on. I remember how later, she went for some lessons so that when
she did lose her sight, she could teach others how to appreciate art. When she
showed me the equipment (we were both then at Brynmawr) that went with this, I
was deeply impressed by her determination. Indeed, an apostolic heart can
always find a creative expression in the service of others. (My phrase, not
hers).
Of
course we never made it to that pie-in-the-sky celebration. On May 22nd
she was in hospital, and I was at the Loyola House Chapel in Manila,
beside my Jesuit brother who died the day before. When I returned to Melbourne
there was a message that Mary Lou would like me to do her obituary (as with
things personal, Mary Lou was matter-of-fact, and so it was not a ‘eulogy’).
When I rang her to inquire about this solemn undertaking, she was typically
straightforward about things which might be said of her at her death. She said
that she wanted me to speak, because I knew something about the things that she
felt passionate about.
What a
tall order! She felt passionate about a host of concerns that involved all of
God’s creation: issues of the environment, ecumenism, human rights, contemporary
spirituality, religious formation, inter-religious dialogue, vision for the
Province, justice and peace. You can imagine how I felt. It is a lavish
compliment she gave me, but I think this is more a statement about her, and the
fullness of her own embrace of creation. How one of a piece, it all becomes, at
the end of a life generously lived. “Ripeness is all”, indeed.
One of
the curious things I observed about Mary Lou is a seeming contradiction of being
almost child-like in her spontaneous “centre-staged-ness’, while actually being
turned to others. She liked, for example, to sit at the front when attending
lectures and talks, so that she can the more readily question and participate.
She
received so much from life: all that exposure to things larger than herself: the
first hand experience of great movements like Pax Christi, the Jesuit Refugee
Services, the UNHCR, etc., these institutions which respond prophetically to the
wounds inflicted by our times. She felt compelled to give something back. She
so longed for the Society to be part of a greater whole, in practice, right here
in the Province.
Perhaps
this might explain a little of that seeming naiveté of hers in offering to take
on leadership. Through leadership (appreciating with more detachment that she
was perhaps given credit for), she felt that she could, with maximum efficacy,
draw life from those things which were precisely larger than herself. For the
good of the whole. I think there was a rare simplicity of spirit in Mary Lou,
which at times was expressed awkwardly, even embarrassingly.
To
complicate matters, she was not wise in the ways of bureaucratic politics and
small intrigues. She was at home with the big picture, which she was convinced
spoke its own message, and had no need of rhetoric. You can see why she was
frequently frustrated.
I think
that people did find her naiveté amusing. There was something unorthodox about
it. And being unorthodox was second nature to Mary Lou, as anyone who remembers
her from her schooldays, would know. How often she was made to stand outside in
the corridor, beyond the pale of dull conformity, as she saw it.
She was
so easy to relate to: she accepted people just as they were, and related from
whatever level they chose to. Many of us picture her as this sunny, genial,
interesting, sporty, teasing conversationalist, who was devoted to the
challenges of bridge and to the demands of tennis, keeping trysts with friends
to the end of her life.
When
she came to Melbourne for the annual ecumenical conference, we would watch the
televised Open together, barracking for opposing camps, just to make things
lively. And I shall always remember those long coffees when we discussed films,
analysing lives made accessible through art.
Mary
Lou revealed depths in her choices and in her consistency. I do not know anyone
in the Province who has actually lived so broadly, was engaged at the coal face
of needs which characterise our changing times. How fortunate she was to work
in collaboration with organisations that were courageous and sensitive mentors
….
I
discovered by accident once, that she continued for many years to mail little
presents to a poor woman in Manila whom she had visited in the course of her
many church travels. Mary Lou’s involvement with the poor, so many types of
poor, was profound, and they blessed her with a clarity and a strength that
became part of her perception of all that had to do with Church.
Is it
not a commonplace, and trite, but so painfully true, that we do not know our
loss until it is too late? It is not possible not to mourn Mary Lou. How I
wish we could have teased out her experiences more, perhaps been more eager to
have her share those gifts which Providence has given the Province, and the
Society, through her. I know that she tried to write now and then when the
passion reached a certain level. Perhaps we were not accustomed to see the
objects of her landscapes. Is this our poverty? Perhaps now we can see
better. That’s the challenge. And I think that Mary Lou would like me to end
on that note. The challenge of living.
I saw
Mary Lou for the last time before she returned to the hospital the final time.
One of the things she said about the Province was that she was hopeful. She was
too tired to elaborate and I did not press her. Perhaps we both understood that
the Spirit will lead, as always.
May you
rest in peace, dear Mary Lou.
Surely
now, all your visions are fulfilled.
Sr Virginia Calpotura, RSCJ
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