Farewell
to a good friend to Madonna
We were saddened to hear of the untimely death of Fr Andrew Zerafa SJ in October. Over the years, Fr Zerafa has been an occasional but much-valued contributor to Madonna. His folksy, often tongue-in-cheek articles were simple and direct, sometimes informative, sometimes challenging. As well, he was an enthusiastic and observant photographer, and we were grateful for the photos he sent for consideration for the magazine.
His most recent offering was the photograph we featured on the cover of the May/June 2003 issue. It brought some specific comment from a reader in a response to the recent reader survey: ‘An aged face — "Lord, let your face shine on us …" The more I looked at the aged face, the more beautiful it became. You have given us a glimpse of beauty in age. Thank you!’
And thank you,.Lord, for the glimpses of you that have been brought to us by Fr Andrew Zerafa. Below is the most recent piece he had offered for publication.
A SPIRITUAL EXPERIENCE
At the National Council of Priests Convention
Andrew Zerafa SJ
Millions of words are spoken at a convention. You cannot hope to remember them all. Some fall on good ground. They touch you. They bear fruit. In 2002, I attended the annual Convention of the National Council of Priests.
One speaker, Father Michael Mason, a Redemptorist, spoke of the example of people having a religious experience. It really touches them deeply. So deeply, in fact, that they will not share it with anyone lest they be considered queer or strange.
For some reason that touched me, but it did not affect me. It did not affect me until something happened. We all went on excursion. It was glorious weather, and we were offered wines to taste and cheeses to nibble, as we cruised over the Brisbane Waters for several hours.
I roamed all over the vessel: upper deck, lower deck, the thin end and the blunt end. Eventually I ended up right at the front. I had not noticed the ‘Crew only’ sign on the door. The Captain was genial. He showed us some of the instruments, especially the sonar, which tells you how deep the water is under your boat.
From time to time he would pick up the microphone and tell everyone on board some interesting detail about the area we were passing through. His comments were pointed and often whimsical. On our left we saw a bridge tilted at some thirty degrees. ‘The island is slowly sinking’, he remarked. ‘That bridge used to be level.’
With the microphone switched off, he would then continue with his interesting
remarks about one thing or another. Somehow we got on to different religions
and the scriptures. He not only read and liked the psalms but he also
had looked up their meaning in the original Hebrew. No, he did not know
Hebrew, but he had a book with a parallel translation: one page in English
and the opposite one in Hebrew transliteration. It gave him great insight
and satisfaction.
Then he told me how he came to be interested. Like St Paul, he had been
shipwrecked. During the salvage operation a cable snapped and his arm
was badly injured. As a result. it was very limited in its movement. He
was not a church goer. His wife was Italian and went to church. One day
she heard of a faith healer and she urged him to come along. ‘I had
nothing to lose’, he remarked.
The healer was a Scottish farmer. Towards the end of the service, the Scotsman asked if there was anyone who wanted to be healed. Our Captain got up and went forward. The healer prayed over him, and slowly the strength and flexibility returned to his arm. And he showed me how he could raise it. Then the healer said, ‘I encourage you to read the Bible’.
‘And that is how it came about that I am so interested in the psalms and so comforted by them. I still don’t go to church, but my wife does.’
It was not until I got home that I realised what had happened. That afternoon, the Captain of our vessel had trusted me sufficiently to share the personal story of his religious experience. I felt truly and deeply touched.
