This morning I rose early in Malta and decided to go and sit looking out at the ocean for my morning prayer.  I thought that the spectacular ocean view would feed my prayer, but instead I became fascinated by a gentle breeze playing through the grass in front of me.  I noticed how each blade of grass was moved independently by the wind, but that the overall effect was of action in unision.  I found myself thinking about how God deals with each of us as beloved individuals but how, when we act together in response to God’s call, we can get a real movement going.

I took the photo at right a few hours ago when I realized I had time to make a quick dash into Valetta, the capital city, before my conference began.

Malta has a fascinating history, having been occupied by the Phonecians, the Greeks, the Romans, the Persians, the Holy Roman Empire, the Ottoman Empire, the French under Napoleon and then the British. During the Second World War, the islands endured thousands and thousands of air raids but never surrendered to the Germans.

Independent since 1964, Malta is a fascinating mixture of European and Arabian influences. About 90% of the population is Catholic, but several Jesuits have told me that they expect a huge fall off in church attendance now that Malta has joined the European Union and will experience the same cultural buffeting that Ireland experienced after entry into the Union.

In yesterday’s posting, I mentioned that I was on my way to Malta.  One of my many jobs yesterday morning before leaving was to prepare posts for the rest of the week so that I suddenly wouldn’t disappear into the ether.  I was so distracted and busy, however, that I completely forgot to write anything before leaving.

Here I was sitting in the departure lounge of Terminal 4 at Heathrow when it suddenly struck me that I had nothing for the blog today.  A moment of mild panic ensued and then I saw a big sign saying, “Internet.”  For 3 British Pounds I have been given 30 minutes of time in which to send you my greetings.

Tomorrow, please God, I’ll be writing from the wee island in the middle of the Mediterrean.  It’s a tough life on the Missions, isn’t it?

I hope you are among the fortunate who get to have the BBC World Service transmitted for part of the day through your public radio station.  I grew up with the “Beeb” and am still a passionate fan.  That having been said, the most consistently amazing radio show I listen to is This American Life.  If you don’t already know the show, I urge you to give it a try.  My favorite show, however, is Car Talk which plays in Chicago on Saturday mornings.  My friends know that this is my “holy hour” and they have been warned to contact me during the broadcast only if they are in danger of imminent demise…

As you can tell, I love radio and almost panic at the thought of being without its many comforts.  I was made aware (again) of this “inordinate attachment” to the airwaves last night as I was preparing to leave for a Jesuit webmaster’s conference in Malta (a small island in the middle of the Mediterrean.) What if there is no French or English-language radio for me to listen to as I lie awake on an uncomfortable and unfamiliar bed? Help!