February 20, 2017
I had never heard of Chuuk before joining the Jesuits in 2004. And, if someone had asked me to point to the Federated States of Micronesia on a world map, my finger probably would have landed on a spot somewhere between Thailand and Malaysia. But now the names of those places and their locations have been burned into my mind and heart. I will never forget them.
My journey to Micronesia began on the morning of January 2, 2017. Over the course of nearly 34 hours, I flew from Syracuse to Chicago to Tokyo to Guam and, finally, landed in Chuuk around 4:00 p.m. on January 4th. The voyage seemed endless, especially for a nervous flyer like me!
As my plane came in for a landing, I was struck by the beauty of the Chuuk Lagoon, a round robin of small islands surrounded by ocean as far as the eye can see. We deplaned at the edge of the airport’s singular runway where I was greeted by the sight of something more familiar—Fr. Dennis Baker, S.J. standing by a fence—one Jesuit waiting for another, as has happened thousands of times since the founding of the Society of Jesus.
I would be on the island of Weno for one week and three purposes: to lead the faculty of Xavier High School in a retreat, to interact with students and coach the seniors as they prepare for college, and to spend time in prayer and community with my brothers, in this special place so far from home. What I didn’t realize was that God had brought me here for a fourth purpose—to encounter His love yet again through a very new and different experience.
I suppose that most people notice the same things when they visit this sacred island: its breathtaking natural beauty, the genuine kindness and warmth of its people, its biting systemic poverty, the impact of Xavier High School, and, of course, “the road.”
The lushness of Chuuk is unparalleled in comparison to anyplace I’ve seen, including Jamaica and Dominica. Palm trees, papaya, and all kinds of brush grow everywhere. Saplings seem to sprout from anything, including fallen trees. And the water calls out to you from every angle, tempting you to enter it and cool yourself from the enduring heat and humidity. Most houses on Weno are small and weather beaten, some without windows or doors. In the absence of television and internet, people spend time with each other, often near “the road.”
The students of Xavier High School are, in many ways, like the kids you might find at any co-ed Jesuit high school—energized, bright, funny, gregarious, and sponge-like. But they smile a lot more often and they even sing! Yes, they sing with the voices of angels in fact. It’s part of their lives and their culture. They sing at Mass; they sing to welcome visitors; they sing to celebrate just about anything. And with smiles that light up the world. It was so easy for me to see the face of God in theirs.
I was surprised by the youth of Xavier’s faculty. Some work for a humble stipend, while others belong to the Jesuit Volunteer Corps. For a change, Dennis is one of the older folks on campus! And these young teachers do their jobs without the creature comforts of American schools, without air conditioning, high-speed internet, or the latest innovative pedagogies. They take cold showers every morning and eat whatever is served to them. And still, their smiles nearly rival those of the students, as they do the work of the Lord and advance the Jesuit mission.
As for the Jesuits themselves, they are before anything else, missionaries. That was the intention of Ignatius the Pilgrim. It was the life of Francis Xavier, Apostle to the Indies. And it has been the experience of countless Jesuits throughout the last five centuries. In a very real way, every place we land is mission territory. But it takes a special man and a lot of grace to accept the missionary assignments that are spelled with a capital “M.” My present assignment as provost and academic vice president at Le Moyne College is very challenging. But I have my hot shower every day and my high-speed internet. I control my own heating and air conditioning and eat what I choose. I have all of that and so much more.
But what about the road? Well, the road is simply that. It’s a mostly unpaved thoroughfare that stretches from one side of the island to the other. It passes the airport, the harbor, a barber shop which doubles as a tailor (which closes for long lunches every afternoon), and the few hotels that attract tourists interested in wreck diving. The road passes simple dress shops and food stores, a Mormon compound, the post office and hospital. It moves through the lives of God’s people, most of whom are very poor. But visitors remember the road mostly because of its awful conditions and the damage it causes! I have never seen a road like this, anywhere. To say it is plagued by potholes would be a terrible understatement. The road is essentially a series of ditches strung together for several miles and it is not for the timid of heart. It even makes walking a hazard. Traversing the road is like passing through a dry river bed and it made an impression that I’m sure I’ll remember forever. One can only imagine how much the quality of life on Chuuk might be improved if its people were given a better road. That’s one of the goals of the high school—to improve the road near Xavier—and I pray for its success.
To whomever may be reading this, let me assure you that Xavier High School is doing God’s work and doing it well. The school stands on holy ground and the Spirit moves across its campus, every minute of the day. St. Ignatius said that, for Jesuits, our community is “the road.” He meant to remind us that all Jesuits are missionaries, in one way or another. That is certainly true for Dennis, Tom Benz, Wylly Suhendra, Ardi Jatmiko, and Naoki Ochi who make up the Jesuit community on Chuuk. It is true for the students, faculty, and staff as well. I spent all of one week in Micronesia and I will never be the same again. I can only imagine what it must mean to Dennis and everyone who stays there longer. Kinisou chapur, Lord. Thank you for being with me, on the road.
December 9, 2016
“Silent Night, Holy night. All is calm, all is bright.”
As I stealthily opened the door to the back of the student center yesterday morning, those are the words I heard as assembly was drawn to a close with this familiar Advent and Christmas song. The students sang it in a near-whisper, with a perfect, unpracticed harmony. As someone who saves his singing for the tiles in the shower or for karaoke, Micronesians’ ability to sing so beautifully has always amazed me. As a good Jesuit friend of mine once said, “There are no coincidences if you’re Catholic,” so it should come as no surprise that Franz Xaver was name of the Austrian composer of the music for the 1818 tune first called Stille Nacht. I imagine plenty of islanders sung it in its original language during this time of year during the German Period of Micronesian history.
I was struck by the seemingly contradictory nature of that song at that particular time of day yesterday. It wasn’t nighttime; it was nearly nine o’clock in the morning. All is not calm when the school day begins here; the campus is instead an exciting flurry of activity and sounds of all kinds.
Things on Mabuchi Hill are indeed holy and bright, though. I marvel at the holiness of the girls as they sacrifice so much to get to and from school every day. They have many early mornings and late evenings. I’m excited by the hopeful disposition of the seniors as they begin the crunch of college applications with the help of Jesuit Volunteer Ms. Samantha Happ. The seniors are readying themselves for bright futures after graduation and beyond. I’m called to a greater holiness by my colleagues in education, as they glowingly help one another with all types of tasks—covering a fellow teacher’s absence, exchanging ideas, and collaborating across curricula. I’m joyful for the help of Nanet Balaod, Inta Welle, and Cristine Denola, who run the business office smoothly, without complaint, and with plenty of laughter for me when I make a mistake, which is often enough. I beamed with joy when Principal Martin Carl returned to us after attending a meeting in the Washington, D.C. area for principals of Jesuit high schools. The only person happier was Joan, Martin’s wife, who is also Xavier’s nurse and registrar. Ranulfo Gaputan is currently overseeing the renovation of two houses as well as the bathroom next to the faculty kitchen. (If you’ve been here even briefly in the last ten years, you know how desperately that bathroom needed an overhaul.) Ranulfo and his crew are some of the hardest working craftsmen I’ve ever seen, and they do their work with smiles on their faces, and without the slightest grumble. They are holy and bright, indeed.
The Incarnation of the Lord is paradoxical, and perhaps on the surface it might seem as contradictory as singing “Silent Night” in the morning to start a school day. Nativity scenes around the world display our God as a helpless baby born into a foreign occupied Middle East to a simple Jewish couple who was far from wealthy. At first glance, it doesn’t make much sense. But that Nativity scene reminds me that God’s ways are not our ways, and my arrogant notions of how God should go about the business of salvation probably needs some further reflection. The Nativity reminds me that things are not always what they appear to be, and God can surprise us at nearly every turn if, paradoxically, we’re looking for God at work. It is no secret that life can be hard here, and we sometimes must make due with very little. At the same time, though, God is so obviously at work at Xavier, and that is a wonderful gift to all who know and love this place.
It is our prayer that the Son of God—love’s pure light—radiantly beam upon you and those you love this Advent and this Christmas. Please know that you are in our prayers.
As always, thank you for your support of Xavier High School in Micronesia.
Rev. Dennis M. Baker, S.J.
December 2, 2016
It is that time of the year again: the spirit of Saint Francis Xavier is about to be on full display on Mabuchi Hill. It is no secret that this is one of Xavier High School’s favorite traditions. Xavier Day brings the whole school together with the amity (or maybe even enmity!) between the classes, the competitions, and the undying Xavier spirit.
What does Xavier Day mean to each class? This day is when students show off their diverse set of skills either individually or as a group. Those wide-eyed freshmen will be all nerves because this will be their first Xavier Day and they are the youngest and least experienced. They are also filled with excitement because the spirit of Xavier High School has slowly crept inside of them and has begun to burn brightly within them over the past four months. They are new, so their talents remain mostly unknown to the rest of us. They aim to mark themselves as standouts among the older classes.
Sophomores are no longer the youngest in the school. They don’t have the seniors to guide them on Xavier Day, as they did last year. Seeing the new freshmen being cared for by the seniors might make last year’s Xavier Day memories come rushing back.
For the juniors, this will be the first time being the leaders of their group, as they will be charged with leading their team comprised of second and third year students. It is their time to shine and to show that they have the experience and ability to lead both classes.
As for the seniors, it is their last year so the thing they want the most out of this Xavier Day is to have fun and make memories. Winning would also be nice for them and the freshmen they will lead!
Psalm 150:4-6 says, “Praise God with drum and dance! Praise God with strings and pipe! Praise God with loud cymbals! Let every living thing praise the Lord. Praise the Lord!” The Psalmist might as well be describing Xavier Day, because these are the sounds of Xavier Day. People will be dancing. Ukuleles and whistles will enliven everyone’s spirits. Everybody will be looking for things that they can bang together to make the loudest sounds.
The spirit that the Xavierites show is so infectious that it will get the Sapukians running up the hill and cheering for the winning team. Saint Francis Xavier travelled around the world to different places creating strong bonds with people and the places just like how Xavierites create bonds between the themselves and the Sapukians. When he traveled to Japan, he adapted to the local customs, just as Xavierites adapt to one another even though we come from different islands, backgrounds, and cultures. This is what Xavier Day brings: the spirit of Saint Francis Xavier. The spirit of love, companionship, and happiness. Yes, there are very competitive games and events over the course of the two days, but this celebration is more than just running and competing. It is about bringing the whole school and the community–including Sapuk–together in a celebration of companionship.
Xavier Day is here, and everyone should keep in mind why we have this special celebration every year in the beginning of December. It is to strengthen the bond with one another, compete with each other in a friendly manner, and to live the way Saint Francis Xavier lived his life. Xavier Day is a day full of spirit and love for one another—a spirit of love given to us by the memory of Saint Francis Xavier burning deep within us.
November 10, 2016
Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.
– Mark Twain
I met my first student from Micronesia in 1991, twenty-five years ago, at Eastern Oregon University. Since then I have met many more Pacific Islander students, and among them have been several graduates from Xavier High School. These Xavier alumni have been some of my best students at Eastern, and they made me yearn to see their islands and their school.
So on sabbatical from Eastern this semester, I sailed away from my safe harbor in La Grande, Oregon and arrived in Chuuk on August 11th to teach Junior and Senior English. Here three months now, I can say that I, too, have been a student, and that the students, fellow teachers, and the Xavier staff have been my traditional navigators, helping me to see and navigate the world in a new way.
Yes, I have taught my students about academic research, how to write a persuasive essay, and how to write a rhetorical analysis. I have prepared them for the ACT and SAT (I hope).
But these lessons are unimportant compared to the lessons I have learned from those around me: that the young Jesuit Volunteers who have come here to teach are some of the most caring, creative, dedicated, hardworking people I have ever met and they give me hope for the future; that from the kitchen staff to the groundskeepers, from the housekeepers to the drivers, from the teachers to the administrators, this is a school that cares about the whole student—mind, body, heart, and soul—and that our main role is to love them, not just to teach them; that I am immersed in a culture whose center of gravity is respect, grace, and generosity which cannot be destroyed by the challenges of poverty, climate change, and westernization.
So on the days when I am teaching and the heat is wilting me more than usual, and a student, unasked, brings a fan to my desk, plugs it in, and sets it to blow directly on me, or when another student takes the chair I am carrying out of my hands to carry it for me, or when the woman sitting next to me fanning herself in church starts fanning in my direction so I benefit, I feel my dragging sail billow.
Or when, after the students have sat for hours taking their SAT exam on a hot Saturday morning, and then break into cheers when it is over and bring out the ukulele to celebrate; or when students perform their fire dance as if twirling fire is like breathing; or when they create decorations of palm leaves to welcome visitors, weaving spectacular creations; or when the girls arrive on the bus at 7:30 a.m. cheering loudly for the day to come, some of them having had to get up before 5:00 a.m. to get the bus but are still full of spirit, I know I have traveled to the right place, a place where the best of Pacific Island cultural traditions are woven together with Jesuit values to create a very special school.
November 6, 2016
It’s great to be back on Mabuchi Hill after five weeks of travel. My autumn trip took me on ten planes, countless trips on trains and subways, over two thousand miles of highway, through four countries, to the campuses of nine colleges, and to ten different cities. I met with Xavier alumni, former teachers and Jesuit Volunteers, college presidents, brother Jesuits, ambassadors, university and high school trustees, parish priests and their parishioners, business people, classmates, colleagues in Jesuit education, and many, many friends.
As I sit here in my (freshly painted!) office, staring out at the lagoon on this perfect Sunday afternoon, I’m trying to recall all the stops on the trip. Looking at the calendar for October of 2016, I find myself asking one question over and over: “Dennis, what did you learn while you were away?” As an educator, I am happy that is the question that crystalizes as I settle back into island life here at school. The answer to that question became very clear over the course of the trip. I learned how hard people are rooting for Xavier High School.
Many of the people who support our school have never been anywhere near it, and probably never will be. They do not wish to be lauded or praised or even thanked for their efforts. What they want is for Jesuit education to do what it’s always done: transform lives. People offer Xavier all types of support—much of it financial. Financial assistance is key, as we are a small school with many different facets of operation and any surplus we have at the end of the financial year is minuscule. Every dollar counts, and many people were breathtakingly generous in their financial assistance to us during October. The trip raised over $35,000. Isn’t that incredible?
While I spent so much time away from Xavier during October, I also heard people say that they’re praying for us. I heard them say they love seeing the photos on our social media outlets and reading about the lives of our students, faculty, and staff. I loved the looks on the faces of people who had never heard of us before, as they removed their phones from their pocket or purses, opened Google maps, and found our campus here on Weno. That encounter was repeated many times, and I always enjoyed the moment when a person continued to zoom out only to see the seemingly endless blue of the Pacific.
The question I heard over and over again during my trip was, “How can I help?” For some, this meant writing a check for a scholarship, or donating through our new online giving page at the UNE Province website. For others, it meant connecting me with businesses who might be able to help us. For my mom (and other family and friends of staff members in the States), it’s meant constant trips to the U.S. Post Office and filling out customs form after customs form in order to mail things to Micronesia that Amazon or other businesses won’t ship here. For these people and many others, their financial and logistical support comes with emails, texts, and notes in the mail about how they think about us all the time, and that we are at the top of the list of intentions they have when they go to pray. The level of gratitude I have for the kind of encouragement I encountered during the trip was truly overwhelming, and I was blessed to be able to encounter it in person. While I often wished I could bring our students with me to each stop to showcase how incredible they are, I now find myself wishing that I could parade all our benefactors in front of the school so everyone could meet one another. Being the conduit between both collections of people is a privileged place for me, and one I do not take for granted.
If you support Xavier financially or wish to do so in the future, please know how grateful we are, and how central your dollars are to the continuation of Jesuit education in Micronesia. Please know, also, that we appreciate the prayers, the notes, and the love. We need those things just as much as the money, if not more so.
Thank you to all of you who support this great school in countless ways.
September 28, 2016
I first went to Camp Dudley after graduating from eighth grade in the summer of 2014. I was chosen to represent my school, Assumption School, which is on the island of Majuro in the Marshall Islands. I became connected to this program through an American teacher at Assumption. His name is Eric Schildge, and he’s from Cambridge, Massachusetts. We all call him Mr. Eric. His wife lived, Carleigh, lived in the Marshalls, as well, and she also has been of great help to me. Mr. Eric went to Camp Dudley himself from the time he was a kid all the way through his college years. He fell in love with Camp Dudley and also with Assumption, so he wanted to share his experience of Camp Dudley with students at Assumption. Mr. Eric asked me if I wanted to give Camp Dudley a try, and I’ve been going there for three summers in a row, with the summer of 2016 being my third. It was another awesome summer at this lovely place.
Camp Dudley is the oldest continuously operating camp in the United States of America. It started in 1885, and has grown to become a worldwide camp. Today, there is a kid from every continent who flies all the way from his homeland just to go to this camp. I happen to be one of them, even though I don’t live on one of the seven continents.
Each summer I’ve gone to Camp Dudley, I’ve traveled about 17 hours (not counting the layovers) from the Marshall Islands all the way to Boston, Massachusetts. I’ve gone from Majuro, to Honolulu, to Los Angeles, and all the way to Boston. The previous two times I made the trip alone, but last summer, I had another Micronesian traveling with me, who is also from the Marshall Islands. He’s an eighth grader now at Assumption, and he also wants to attend Xavier High School next year.
Camp Dudley is located at Westport, New York on Lake Champlain. It is a leadership development camp, and its mission is to “develop moral, personal, physical, and leadership skills in the spirit of fellowship and fun, enabling boys to lead lives characterized by devotion to others.” I was a senior camper when I first went to Camp Dudley. I was an aid (a half-camper, half employee) in 2015. This past summer, I was an official employee at Camp Dudley, so I had a leadership role. My job was to look after the kids in my cabin, and to make sure that they were safe. Being a leader helped me mature quite a bit. I also had a lot of fun, though: playing games, playing golf on Sundays, and eating good food. I also learned to become a better person by following the camp’s motto, which is, “The Other Fellow First.”
I’ve learned that being vocal is a very important leadership skill in Western culture. Coming from the Marshall Islands and attending Xavier High School in Chuuk, I know that being a leader entails putting our words into actions, but we islanders are usually rather reserved in our words. Things are different in Micronesia than they are in the States. In Micronesia, it is considered very disrespectful to look someone in the eye and talk to him or her, but in America it is considered very disrespectful to not look someone in the eye when he or she is talking to you. I learned to adapt to another culture while I was in the States. Over the last three summers, I’ve learned to “code switch” every time I go to camp and then return home to the Marshalls or to Xavier. Camp Dudley has helped me learn to adapt to different cultures, even though it wasn’t always easy. I still managed to do it, though, and I’ve learned a great deal about myself and other people, too. I’ve become more self-aware, and I’ve grown to become a better person from my experiences there. I’ve made many good friends at Camp Dudley, and I still communicate with them during the school year using social media.
Each summer, Camp Dudley fills up with very nice and friendly people. It is a place where young people can feel safe to try something new, and just to be who they are without the fear of being judged. It is a diverse and inclusive environment and everyone is welcomed regardless of his religion, sexuality, race, or anything else. There is a very positive energy flowing around Camp Dudley, and there is no such thing as a bad day at camp. Just like Xavier High School, Camp Dudley shapes and molds young people to become better citizens and leaders for their communities in the present and in the future.
September 18, 2016
As I celebrate a month and a half in Chuuk and my first few days in the classroom, I find myself feeling incredibly grateful for the experience of being a Xavier teacher in ways I could not have anticipated before making the long trek here. I was fairly apprehensive about the idea of being on the other side of the desk, as I have no formal teaching background. The students quickly have assuaged (one of my literature classes’ vocabulary words for this week) my fears with their enthusiasm, understanding, and genuine desire to learn. In the short time that I’ve known these young people, they have displayed a balanced combination of humor and motivation that I don’t remember from my own high school days. They have made teaching fun and lesson planning feel completely worth the time and energy.
I thought I had worked on diverse staffs during college, but those were nothing when compared diversity of ethnicity and experience that the Xavier faculty and staff possesses. Working and living with people from all over the United States, the Philippines, Indonesia, Japan, Australia, and Micronesia has been a learning experience unlike anything I could have had back home. I know that I will not fully understand or appreciate the uniqueness of this work environment until years from now.
In my brief experience teaching, I have already come to love the look of pure confusion that sets in when a student has his or her preconceptions challenged and he or she begins to think about something in a new way. Having spent about six weeks in Chuuk before classes started, I was able to feel this same confusion many times myself as I encountered different aspects of Chuukese culture. With every new fact I learn about society here, I become increasingly aware of how much I still have to learn. Even after my two years in Chuuk, I doubt I will have done much other than brush the surface of this incredibly complex culture. Before I came to Chuuk, past visitors told me about the communal nature of the people here, the emphasis placed on family, and the willingness to slow down and enjoy the sunset or the stars. Words did not do any of these things justice—there was no way I was going to understand these things, even slightly, until I got here. Even after a month and a half, I’m only beginning to understand them.
September 9, 2016
That is the thought that crosses my mind so frequently these days. It comes to me even now as I hear the voices of students after so many weeks punctuated by the hammering of nails and sawing of wood. There was plenty of work done on the physical plant over the past month, and it continues: further Typhoon Maysak repairs, a total refurbishing of the former JV house, improvements on the infirmary, and other needed rehabilitations. Such work was and is imperative, of course, but we can never forget the purpose for all of this work. The purpose of anything we do here is to continue to be the finest high school in the Pacific, and in so doing, help people grow closer to God.
Indeed, the sounds proper to a school finally have arrived, and those sounds have transformed a lonely campus construction site into a school teeming with life once again.
The sounds of prayer at daily Mass enliven the chapel. Those prayers are followed by the unmistakable murmur of teenage voices and laughter that signal the wait for morning announcements in the Student Center. The familiar gong of the school bell is known quite well to all of us, as it is rung repeatedly throughout the day. The sound of basketballs bouncing in the gym and on the outdoor court, and bare feet gliding over the grass on the field remind us of the global appeal of athletics, especially in schools. I wonder if people on the nearby islands of Tonoas and Fefen heard the boys practicing the music for the Mass of the Holy Spirit, as their powerful voices shook the louvers in the Student Center a few times on Monday and Tuesday night.
The most important sound around here, of course, is the sound of students learning. Just today, Sir Rovan had his sophomores out of the classroom buildings and over to the rec shed to see the importance of observation in the study of science. The sounds of students’ voices coming through the windows of the Director’s Office were truly a gift. It’s hard to miss the booming voice of new teacher Mr. Will Clemens talking excitedly about the important insights of art in understanding the history of civilization. The soft, dulcet tones of Mrs. Susan Whitelock’s voice (on loan to us from Eastern Oregon University) fill her classroom with constant encouragement for students to speak up for themselves–even using Beyoncé’s alter ego, Sasha Fierce, as a helpful example. The sound of Mr. Ean Tierney’s piece of chalk striking the chalkboard with force and passion is inspiring, as well. The utter silence of the Study Hall during First Study in the evening is a reminder of the work and focus it takes to succeed at this school.
These are just a few examples, of course, for each part of this campus is now joyfully overrun with the sounds of a Jesuit secondary school in full swing, even after only a few days. These are welcomed sounds for all of us, and the excitement here is truly something to celebrate.
We hope that the sounds of your September are as joyful and holy as the sounds here on Mabuchi Hill—no matter what line of work you may be in, or where you might find yourself on the globe.
Know of our prayers for you.
August 25, 2016
If you’re in or around New York City on October 6th, please join Fr. Dennis Baker, S.J. for a reception to celebrate Xavier High School in Micronesia. This event is graciously hosted and supported by the “other Xavier High School” in Manhattan, with all proceeds coming to Mabuchi Hill.
The link below also contains a method to donate to Xavier Micronesia even if you cannot be with Fr. Baker on October 6th.
July 1, 2016
The first time I heard about Xavier High School in Micronesia was in 1996. I was a sophomore at Canisius High School in Buffalo, New York. I was in Algebra II/Trigonometry class, and Fr. Rich Zanoni, S.J. was my teacher. Fr. Zanoni cancelled class one very cold winter day to show us his photos from his time as principal of Xavier from 1976 to 1979. I remember being captivated completely by this place once called Truk on the screen in front of me. It would have been impossible for me to know that I’d be sent there, less than ten years later, in my second year as a Jesuit. When I arrived, I learned everyone was using the more appropriate name of Chuuk. When I left Xavier after my six-month assignment was complete, it would have been impossible for me to know that I’d return in exactly ten years as the Director of the school. I always hoped I return to Micronesia someday, but I never expected it to be this soon or in this capacity.
On my first day as Director, the overwhelming emotion I feel is gratitude. I am especially grateful for the help Fr. Bob Pecoraro, S.J. has been to me in this time of transition. Micronesia is holy ground, surrounded by holy water. I have had profound experiences of God’s love for me and for the world during my time there, and I draw upon such moments quite often, as if they were a kind of spiritual well. Today, I hear God’s voice softly calling me back to the Pacific and that voice elicits in me an excitement that is difficult to describe. I think about Xavier all day long. Micronesia is a place that has meant a great deal to me in my life, because it has cultivated within me a more robust view of the Church, the Society of Jesus, Jesuit education, and the world. I look forward with tremendous excitement and hope for the new things I will learn there, the people who are about to come into my life, and the new ways God will reveal the kind of love that is unique to God alone.
Finally, the Superior General of the Jesuits, Fr. Adolfo Nicolás, S.J. has said that “depth of thought and imagination are distinguishing marks of the Ignatian tradition.” As a Jesuit institution, we share in that vision of depth for our school. There are many stories in the Gospels that involve maritime themes and adventures. A close Jesuit friend of mine and I share a fondness for verse four from chapter five of Luke’s Gospel, in which we find Jesus in a boat with his friends. It reads, “When Jesus had finished speaking, He said to Simon, ‘Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.’” Micronesia is home to one of the deepest parts of the ocean–the Mariana Trench. Perhaps it is not a small coincidence that God’s love feels so deep there, as well.
Please be assured of my prayers for Xavier as I prepare for my arrival on Mabuchi Hill later this month.
Fr. Dennis M. Baker, S.J.