I LIVE TO SERVE - In Loving Memory of Father Emmanuel Msuri

 

We stand in the temple of our reality, in the presence of God, like the two men in the Gospel. What brings us close to God has been given us. The One who is close to the broken-hearted has humbled us with sorrow so that we might come near to Him.

There are two things that bring us into intimate union with Him – the humbled contrite heart of the sinner who cries out for Mercy and the humbled heart that is broken by sorrow. Heart-broken. One prays, “O God be merciful to me a sinner” and the other simply says “O God…”

We are shocked and heart-broken by the unexpected death, at the age of forty-seven, of Father Emmanuel Msuri whose arrival here in Hastings we have been waiting for with great anticipation. This was to be another kind of Advent; the meaning of his name not lost on us. Emmanuel – God is with us.

He was not known personally to any of the parishioners, with the exception of Alexandra who, as leader of the welcoming group had been in contact with him by email. But, though unknown, he had made his way into the hearts, the minds, and spirits of the people of this parish. Spoken of regularly and prayed for.

The children at Sacred Heart school saw his photo during assemblies and offered prayers for him. He would be welcomed and loved.

But God had other plans and took our Emmanuel to Himself; God teaching us once more that we are not in charge of what happens. We may seek to plan and manage these transitions and perhaps we do so because we cannot cope with not knowing, with not being in control.

And so, once again we are forced to surrender to that unpredictable movement of the Holy Spirit who blows where He will, to surrender to the Spirit as Mary did, and by her surrender to make way for salvation to come. It is the same with us now. Trust, surrender, receive, believe – as the hymn sings. We trust in the wisdom and the will of God.

I have known Emmanuel for about twenty years from the time I became Provincial and went on visitation to East Africa. We got on very well, He was one of the senior students in Nairobi then, when Michael O’Sullivan was Rector and Formator. Reginald Kimathi and Innocent were his classmates and, though I haven’t seen them much over recent years, I have a place of affection for them in my heart.

They came to my rescue during a meeting I had with the student body. I had given them what I thought was an inspiring talk on our way of life, hoping that an inspiring sharing would follow. But what I got was a long list of complaints about how difficult their life was.

Feeling myself floundering, sinking into gloom, I asked, “if things are that bad, then why are you here?” And it was then that the senior lads started to tell the story of how they had come to be there, the core of their calling that still kept them there. The younger ones followed their elder’s example and the whole thing became incredible life-giving and joyful, to the point that we laughed.

Emmanuel was to me an example of the obedience to which we are called and consecrated. During one visit I decided to move him from a place where he was very happy to a place where he was needed. We stood face to face and his chin quivered as if he might cry but, without protest or complaint, he said “yes!”

The same spirit revealed itself in him earlier this year after he was appointed to come here to Hastings. I wrote that I was very conscious that this was asking a lot of him in terms of leaving the parish he loved, his family, home, and country for the good of the people in this far away place. His reply was brief and simple. “I live to serve,” he said. This I admire greatly.

We would spend lovely times together in Ireland when he and Reginald were over for a Provincial Assembly and came to stay with me at home in Mervue, visiting my family, going on pilgrimage to Knock, walking in the cold by the sea.

More recently he visited me here in Hastings and when I heard he would be the one to replace me, I was very pleased. He is the very one I would have chosen myself to bring the brightness of his smile as a blessing to the people whom I love with all my heart. A man I love blessing the people I love. It would be just right. But was not to be,

I feel a grief in me that I haven’t experienced in a long time. I cried at Mass telling the people what had happened. When I could not speak, Deacon Duncan held me.  It has been overwhelming - to hear on Thursday night that he was very ill with cancer and then to hear on Saturday morning that he had died. And something in me wants to bring the love of this parish to him but, of course he is beyond needing that, since he has come to the greatest Love, the Love of Christ that has urged him on as a Pallottine all these years. May the reward of his labours go with him and Eternal Rest be his.

And may his family be consoled because theirs is humanly the greater loss. And his Pallottine community, the people of Sacred Heart parish in Nairobi – we hold all of these in our hearts in prayer.