By Fr. Peter Woodruff

Columban Father Peter Woodruff reflects on his celebration of Christmas with the people of Tupac Amaru.

In Australia where I grew up. The build-up to Christmas in marked by an effort to prepare for final exams, or a burst to finish off well the year’s work before summer begins. The year is over; the work is done; the worry and chores are behind. It’s time to ease up and celebrate.

For most people here in Peru, life is not like that, though Peru is also in the southern hemisphere. Nothing really stops. The rhythm of life varies little. There is no artificial ending, slackening and beginning again. So many people live from day to day, from week to week. Long term planning or vacations away form home are not part of life. No one complains about this; that is just how life is.

Nevertheless, Christmas is special here. Small children become the center of attention. The various organizations in the barrio. Especially the many common-pot kitchens, prepare hot chocolate and sweet bread rolls for the children. Parents who can afford to do so buy presents for there children. Most families try to be together at midnight on Christmas Eve for a late supper.

No one in our parish would be the least bit embarrassed having an elaborate celebrations. As a priest I have a role to play. I help people prepare and come together for our communal celebrations. I preside at the Christmas Eve Mass. Years of experience have taught me to do everything reasonably well.

Still, I have trouble making my own personal religious faith part of the communal celebrations. As public as my religious role may be, I struggle to overcome the effects of a tradition that has fostered in me an extremely private approach to religion.

I wonder whether growing up in a pluralist society that divorces religion from public life and maintains a rigid separation of Church and state has hindered me from entering into public religious symbolism as freely and enthusiastically as Peruvians. I feel that I have been conditioned to live my religious privately, but here I am with a people who go public every chance they get.

The Peruvian tradition of close alliance between Church and state may have its advantages, but it seems to lead to a greater integration of life and religious faith. Their fiesta, with its different moments – religious ceremony, firecrackers, band, procession, dance, eating and drinking and general revelry – is one big celebration. There seems to be clear distinction between what is secular and what is religious.

As I become more aware of how my own religious and cultural tradition has shaped me, I learn to open myself to the values of a different tradition,, one that does not box life into artificially separate compartments. This increased self-understanding helps me join in the celebration of Christmas with the people of Tupac Amaru with greater joy and freedom.