Footsteps – Carlos, Christian, & Clyde

“to make known to God’s Caribbean People the loving kindness of the heart of our God.”

It seems like almost yesterday. Like yesterday, come and gone; but it’s just today, permitted by our Good Shepherd’s grace and gift.

It was a quiet, cool and breezy evening in September 1967. From the deep south, in Trinidad; born, baptised and bred, under the grace-filled gaze of La Divina Pastora, and mentored by a holy priest, one ‘C’ journeyed with great anticipation, up to Mt St Benedict.

We were driven there by the late Fr Eugene P Delahunt (RIP), our parish priest at that time. With my mother and a fellow altar server/close friend, we arrived at the Seminary of St John Vianney and the Martyrs of Uganda. In a hushed tone, my mother’s lips were busy. In her native Spanish language, she was speaking with La Divina Pastora, while rubbing her Rosary beads:

“Ave Maria, llena de gracia,

La Divina Pastora, llena de gracia,

El Seňor esta con Usted.

Bendita tu eres entre de las mujeres,

Y bendito es el fruto de su vientre,

Jesus.

 

Santa Maria, Madre de Dios,

La Divina Pastora, Madre del Buen Pastor,

ruega por nosotros pecadores,

ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerta,

Amen.”

Another C-initialled teenager, named Clyde, had entered the Seminary building, just a few moments before this C-initialled Callistus Carlos arrived. That’s where it all began—a bonding fellowship.

We shared a future guided by spirituality, a faithful and enduring deep friendship, a joyful camaraderie, a mission-led and pastorally reflective ministry practice later, anchored in a grounded fraternal vision for team-ministry, and a mutually respectful and supportive accompaniment that was to last a lifetime. Those ingredients and objectives closely united us.

‘Clockie boy’: the friendship is forged

I met Clyde Martin Harvey that day in our rainy season of abundant mangoes and zabocas (avocados). Soon after our parents and priests left, another C-initialled Siparian seminarian, also named Callistus, but more popularly known as Franklin, with Clyde and Sebastian Madhosingh, approached me.

“Hey, Callistus, we need some help. Come with us please.”

“Sure,” said I.

“Can you climb that ladder and hang this clock on the wall for us?”

“I am afraid of heights, but I will try,” said I.

I climbed cautiously. I affixed the clock to the wall. I started to descend. The wall hook loosened. Down fell the clock. The pieces scattered. The trio gasped audibly.

“Oh mih Gord, he mash up de clock wee.”

“Oh shucks. An’ de Pope jes sen wee dah clock. Yuh in big trubble, Callistus. De Rector go sen yuh home. Go an get yuh suitcase. Doh worry tuh unpack.”

Clyde drew closer and said, “Sorry, Callistus. I am so sorry that has happened.”

They left me sweating profusely and pitifully gazing at my unpacked suitcase. With my heart throbbing wildly, I just sat there. “My God. I will be expelled before I have even started. So, I will never be a priest? Help me please, Lord,” I muttered. I was sad, worried and anxious.

Around 15 minutes later, someone knocked. I thought, “It’s the Rector. I will be kicked out of the seminary.” Prepared for the worst, I slowly opened the door. Madho, Franklin and Clyde stood there.

Franklin said, “Boy, yuh jes reech here an yuh don brek de clock awreddy? Dah was ah speshal gif frum de Pope tuh de seminary. He bless it an sen it to wee. De Rector go be vex fuh so.”

Beads of sweat flowed down my forehead. After a few minutes of watching me sweat, they exploded. Their laughter confused me.

Madho said, “Well, frum today, yuh name is Clock.”

Clyde added, “Welcome to the seminary, Clockie boy!”

I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

That is how and when I met Clyde. It was how, throughout my seminary sojourn, I was known as, ‘Clock’ and later, ‘Fr Clock’, ‘Clockie boy’, and even, ‘De Ole Clock ticking away out there’. Luckily though, I was never called ‘De Ole Grandfadda Clock’, though happily, I am now a proud grandfather of two, with another on the way.

In April-May 1970, during the Black Power Revolution in Trinbago, Clyde and Glyn Jemmott were studying Politics and Linguistics respectively at UWI, one of the hubs of the crisis.

During that period of social unrest, at each morning’s Eucharist, we listened attentively to Clyde’s (and Glyn’s) prayer intercessions. Their prayers always reflected the current issues. Thus, we got updated on the latest developments regarding the subjects that we could pray for our people’s relief, in our private prayer times, during the course of the day. (The range of concerns included molotov cocktails, violence sites, police or army clashes with demonstrators, deaths, arrests, new events, marches etc).

‘Trinity type’ friendship

Fast forward to June 1970. Another C-initialled teenager came to see the Rector and spent a day at the Seminary. The Prefect, Henry Charles (RIP), asked me to show him around and accompany him during his visit. I did. We learnt a bit of each other’s background and interests that day. That was how I met Christian.

We sowed the seed of our friendship that day. However, I didn’t tell him I was about to take a two-year leave of absence to teach at the Siparia Boys’ Primary RC School from September. So, he was a bit disappointed when he entered Seminary in September and I wasn’t there. However, he and Clyde were former St Mary’s College schoolmates and thus had common ground between them and some mutually shared interests.

Christian and I were reunited in October 1972, when I resumed studies at the Seminary. It was as if not a day had elapsed since we first met in June 1970. Meanwhile, Clyde had gone to Louvain (Belgium) to study theology.

Christian and I became as thick as thieves; but, good thieves, like the one who spoke at Calvary for Jesus, from the cross, whom Jesus took to Paradise. We had a special third person in our friendship circle while we studied theology during 1972–1975. He was our bearded brother, Monty.

It was always a good threesome, never only two. We always had a trinity type model friendship circle. After Monty returned to Guyana for pastoral work in 1974, followed by ordination in 1975, we co-opted Bunty to complete our circle of three. Eventually, Ronald Tagallie joined us. We became a foursome team.

I think Christian was preparing for the Vicar General and Cathedral Administrator jobs from our seminary days together. He was such a skilled organiser-manager type. He was already the Seminary bursar. He sold essential toilet items as toothpaste, toothbrushes, toilet soap etc, and he disbursed our seminarians’ monthly allowance on behalf of the Seminary Finance Officer.

If Christian wasn’t organising a House of Prayer gathering, he was arranging a Botanical Gardens Day of Recollection (based on The Seven Last Words of Jesus from the Cross), while moving to a different ‘Station’ or area of the Gardens for each of the Seven Words. He also rearranged the pews in the Seminary chapel during our weekly Friday afternoon housework clean-up time. A new-look seating arrangement would often evoke a slight jolt of surprise, and Bunty’s typical comment, “De arranger gih wee ah change-up again, boi! ‘E should start arrangin music fuh Despers steelban’.”

A fellowship rooted in prayer and creativity

Christian’s pew changes usually facilitated a new interactive prayer atmosphere or ambience or new meditative postures that promoted different and refreshing spiritual experiences for different worshippers. I found it personally beneficial. It was a welcome periodic change, I thought.

Christian would write and distribute a ‘Reflection Report’ on all our threesome spiritual retreat experiences and processes. He was always full of creative spiritual or theological reflection ideas and opportunities for our friendship circle to do together with other seminarians, at variable solitary or communal venues.

We implemented those at Clifton Hill Dominican Convent, or Asa Wright Nature Centre, or the Mader’s Mayaro beach house, or the Cluny Sisters beach house in Balandra, or the Holy Ghost Fathers’ house down the islands.

He organised Maracas or Balandra beach limes, or Valsayn Pizza Place food limes. We did a Theological Reflection session and The Catholic News article on ‘What does Easter mean to you as Christians?’. He coordinated Mannettes’ Ranch retreats.  The list goes on. He would also sometimes borrow Fr Michel’s car and he and I would go to visit friends in Arima or elsewhere.

Christian also persuaded Frs Michel and O’Regan to have him lead in converting two rooms into a quiet music room, as a spiritual oasis for individual or group meditation and relaxation.

Behind many of his projects, there was a pastoral, spiritual, theological or biblical motif. They were always inclusive and open to everyone; all excellently executed and beneficial to us all.

Our diaconate ordination happened on 18 May 1975, Pentecost Sunday, together with Bunty and a Benedictine monk, Vincent Merrique. During the Litany of the Saints, as we lay prostrate behind the kneeling Archbishop Anthony Pantin, we saw that his red vestments were matched by his red shoes. That caught our attention and distracted us a bit. They were the closest items within our vision range.

That prompted Christian and me to jokingly visualise ourselves as prayerfully engaged under a pommerac tree’s red blossoms carpeting the ground around the blooming pommerac tree! We gratefully thanked the Holy Spirit for inspiring our thoughtful appreciation of the beauty of God’s creation that reflects God in nature.

We began our ordination day 50 years ago (on June 27), by rising at 4 a.m. and heading for Maracas Bay.

Three friends accompanied us. They included two deacons (one was Rev Andrew Cromwell), a Guyanese seminarian resident with us at St John Vianney. He had agreed to do most of the driving on that day.

The other deacon was Rev Brother Louis—a Dominican (Order of Preachers of the English Dominicans’ Province), based at Mt St Irvine in Grenada. He was a native of Montserrat, whom Carlos had met while studying Education in Jamaica, and Rev Br Louis was studying theology at United Theological College of the West Indies (UTCWI). Our other visitor was a Guyanese priest and close friend, Monty (ordained priest in 1975); and, of course, the 3-C’s.

We left our residence at around 4.30 a.m. heading off for a Day of Recollection and Reflection.

The day of ordination: a pilgrimage of gratitude

We arrived at Maracas Bay at dawn. We gazed in awe at the most beautiful sunrise our eyes beheld. As it rose, the golden sun glistened on the sparkling waters of the sea. Penetrating through the thin mist that rose over the waters, our Brother the Sun, transformed into gold every crag in the mountains above.

We were seemingly transported into a new dimension, enveloped in a dazzlingly golden light. It was as if God Himself had come down to Maracas Bay on that early morning, simply to touch us each, bless us and ready us for His ministry of service in regularly “washing the feet” of our God’s Caribbean peoples.

That was our first stop. We prayed silently at first, then audibly. And chatted as we walked along the beautiful sandy beach, with its crystal-clear, calmly breaking, early-morning waves.

After about an hour of prayer, reflection, brief meditation, then chatting together, we headed off to our next stop. It was at the St Joseph of Cluny Sisters Convent in Maraval. There we said Morning Prayer together with the nuns. They prayed for and with us. We had coffee with them and departed for the next stop.

We headed to Tunapuna Public Market. There we ate a hearty organic breakfast. Next stop was Asa Wright Nature Centre in Blanchisseuse. We did Midday Prayer in the gardens. Then we went on private individual short nature walks for meditation; and came back together for an organic lunch. We then left around 2.30 p.m. and headed back to Port of Spain.

Ordination was scheduled for 4 p.m. We were on the clock but cutting it a bit close.

We next stopped briefly at the lookout atop Lady Young Road, for around 20 minutes. It was 3.10 p.m. From there we viewed our beautiful city down below the lofty mountains of the Northern Range.

We prayed together for city and country, and for our imminent ministry among God’s Trinity People. Interiorly moved spiritually in the moment, Carlos leaked a bit at the eyes. The 3-Cs quietly embraced for a few seconds.

We left for the Cathedral at 3.30 p.m. and got there at around a 3.50 p.m. That time was a bit too close for comfort. A worried archbishop and clergy were staring at the clock and wondering over our whereabouts.

Archbishop Pantin greeted us with a pleasant smile of relief, saying, “We were worried about you all. Thank God you are here safe and sound. We were on tenterhooks there until you arrived safely. Thank God. Okay then, try to vest quickly. Phew!”

We had a first pre-ordination retreat at Veritas House with Fr Gerard ‘Gerry’ Pantin.

Subsequently, we 3-Cs had Archbishop Pantin lead our second pre-ordination retreat, one week before our ordination date. We did it at the Cluny Nuns’ Convent in Arouca. We had reflected with him on a few spirituality, theological and priestly issues that we had been pondering, and around which we were reading and discussing among ourselves. That conversation and our 3-Cs initials seemed to have inspired Archbishop Pantin to preach on precisely that.

His sermon was on The three C’s: Community, Church, Caribbean; Chastity, Celibacy, Charity; Courage, Compassion, Christ; Carlos, Christian & Clyde, as C-words calling for Christian transformation of our world.

Walking together still

Clyde, Christian and I have walked many paths together over the years, before and since our ordination in 1976. We have mutually walked together through thick and thin; through joyous times and individual challenges or crises; in illness and in health, in separations and reunions.

We have had lots of fun times and some gravely serious times and chats as well. We have always been three mutually empathetic and supportive brothers.

During the past 59 years from seminary formation to priesthood and pastoral ministry responsibilities, we have never gone more than a month or two without connecting in person, or now virtually through WhatsApp.

Neither elation nor depression nor distance nor distress nor disagreement on any issue has ever kept us apart. In fact, all those factors have cohered, united and made our fraternal, pastoral and priestly fellowship a firmer, more visionary walk and accompaniment with Christ.

To God be the glory. Our help is in the Name of the Lord. So, blessed be the Name of the Lord. Amen.

With God’s choicest blessings for you and yours.

Rev-Rob

aka The Reverend Doctor Carlos C Roberts