Tag Archives: jubilee

Small Acts, Big Impact: Reflections on Service

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Every year, the Missionaries of Charity, with the help of a dedicated team of young volunteers, organise a three-week summer camp for children. It’s a chance for these children to enjoy activities like swimming, trips to Gozo and Splash and Fun, as well as creative projects such as arts and crafts.

A story that always inspires me is about the time the Missionaries of Charity asked Mother Teresa if they could reduce their prayer time to focus more on serving others. Her response? The more work they had, the more prayer they needed. This idea became very real to us during summer camp. With so much to plan, crafts, games, outings, it was easy to feel overwhelmed. Yet, no matter how hectic things got, the Sisters always called us to join them for adoration. That one hour of quiet gave us the chance to pause, reflect on the day, and pray for those around us. Over time, I found myself looking forward to it, and even after returning to my fast-paced life as an accountant, I carried that habit with me.

One moment that really stuck with me was meeting a 10-year-old boy who constantly pushed our patience to the limit. He swore, teased the other children, and made fun of everyone, including me. After multiple warnings and a time-out (which led to a dramatic meltdown), I was shocked when, later that week, he came up to me and apologised. He broke down, admitting that at home, he was always told he was doing everything wrong. On top of that, he was responsible for house chores and looking after his two-year-old sibling because his guardians couldn’t cope. For him, summer camp was the one place where he could just be a child—where he felt seen and loved. His words changed the way I saw things. Loving these children wasn’t always easy, but as Mother Teresa once said;

Love means to be willing to give until it hurts.

Another experience that left a lasting impact on me was volunteering in Kenya. For a year, we fundraised to hire local construction workers to build houses for families in need. I’ll never forget one family who lived in a tin house barely bigger than a fridge, with five people squeezed under the same tiny roof. We played a small part in building them a new home, sturdy, made of stone and wood, with enough space to breathe. Their joy was overwhelming.

What struck me most was their generosity. They had so little, yet when we finished, they offered us tea, the best they had to give. It reminded me that sometimes, the simplest gestures mean the most.

So, here’s my challenge to you: reach out to a family member or friend you haven’t spoken to in a while. Just listen. In today’s world, loneliness is the new poverty, and even the smallest act of kindness can make a world of difference. By taking time to connect with others, we help build something greater than any house—true community and belonging.

Nicholas Ferry

The Purge and the Jubilee

First article in a series of reflections written during Lent, exploring the works of mercy in the context of the Year of the Jubilee Pilgrims of Hope.

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Scary movies are not my piece of cake. They keep me awake at night and terrified some days later when alone. I admit that I could not stomach watching past the trailer to the various films from The Purge series. The concept behind the franchise, however, is interesting: once a year, the American Government allows any type of crime, including murder, without any legal ramifications. The result, according to the film’s opening title sequence: “Unemployment is at 1%. Crime is at an all-time low. Violence barely exists”. Peace and prosperity come by channelling collective rage within a contained twelve-hour time window.

The Jubilee is very much like The Purge. A whole year, every twenty-five years, in which social order is restored. A 365-day reset button in which everyone goes back

to their own family and return to their ancestral property

Leviticus 25:41

A time to restore societal relations so that God is re-established as Lord of time and space. This is the biblical notion of the year of Jubilee: a time for slaves to be emancipated, debts forgiven, and even the land allowed to rest (see Leviticus 25). In many respects, then, the Jubilee is a year in which society is purged of all economic or social ties that yoke individuals composing that society, and God is reinstated as rightful owner of persons and property. All belongs to him. This restoration of societal relations is very much in keeping with the idea of re-establishing social order in The Purge.

The Jubilee, however, differs in the means by which such restoration takes place. Peace and prosperity come by not by channelling collective rage within a particular timeframe. It comes, by contrast, through the channelling of collective faith, hope, and charity: faith lived together as Church; hope that God’s fidelity will provide; charity acted out through works of mercy. Society will not be built up by violence and revolution (as Marx would have it). But by individuals consciously choosing to do good: to feed the hungry; to give water to the thirsty; to clothe the naked; to shelter the homeless; to visit the sick; to visit the imprisoned, or ransom the captive; to bury the dead; to instruct the ignorant; to counsel the doubtful; to admonish sinners; to bear wrongs patiently; to forgive offences willingly; to comfort the afflicted; to pray for the living and the dead.

During this Jubilee year of hope we are given an opportunity. We are invited to change our communities, our society, and our world. To purge them of the injustices that bind vulnerable people in our midst. To give back dignity to those who have fallen victim of our dog-eat-dog society. To see others as brothers having one Father who is Lord of all. It is only then that we are able to

proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour

Luke 4:19

For it is only by freeing others from their prisons that we recognise that we too are shackled by our own in/securities: our money, our property, our dysfunctional relationships, our careers, our hopes that leave us hopeless. By our works of mercy, this Jubilee, we are set free from the prisons we have put ourselves and others in, and experience the true hope that only God can provide.

Rev. Sinclair Bugeja

Mercy makes room for everyone

Opening your home – or your heart – can turn hopelessness into hospitality. True welcome is more than just offering a place to stay; it is about creating a space where a person feels seen, valued, and safe. When we welcome the stranger, we recognise their dignity, seeing beyond differences and embracing them as a fellow child of God.

Many people today feel like strangers—immigrants seeking refuge, the homeless longing for shelter, the lonely searching for connection.

But there are also those who feel like strangers in their own homes, schools, or communities, unsure if they belong. A smile, a listening ear, an invitation to sit at the table – these small acts of mercy can break through walls of isolation and turn fear into friendship.

Christ Himself was once a stranger, finding no room at the inn. Yet, He calls us to welcome Him in the stranger, reminding us that every act of hospitality is an encounter with Him. When we open our doors, our hands, and our hearts, we offer not just a place to stay, but a glimpse of God’s love – a love that transforms strangers into family.

Honour the departed, comfort the living

Every act of remembrance keeps hope alive for the living. When we honour those who have gone before us, we affirm the dignity of their lives and the love they shared. Burying the dead is more than a final farewell – it is a profound act of mercy, a recognition that every person is created by a loving God and deserves to be remembered with respect.

Grief can be heavy, but no one should carry it alone.

In comforting those who mourn, we bring light into the darkness of loss. Our presence becomes a sign of hope, reminding the grieving that love endures beyond death.

Mercy calls us to see every life as sacred – from the beginning to the very end. In burying the dead, comforting the grieving, and cherishing memories, we proclaim that no one is forgotten, and in doing so, we reflect the eternal love of God.