By Auxiliary Bishop Joseph Ha Chi-shing, OFM
Ever since I applied for the JoyYou Card, I have been taking the MTR more often. After all, the fact that it only costs $2 per journey is a big incentive! Besides, the price of petrol is getting more and more expensive and, when I think about the tunnel tolls back and forth, possible traffic jams, polluted air, and so on, I really don’t have much interest in travelling by car if I am not in a hurry.
In fact, it is much more relaxing to travel by MTR than to drive! Sometimes I pray the rosary or the Liturgy of the Hours, or prepare for the sermon of the talks or the homily of the Mass I’m going to offer in a minute. And sometimes I just empty my mind and let my overloaded brain switch off for a while. These are things I cannot do while driving.
Of course, the MTR train compartment is also a good place to observe all kinds of life, which can be regarded as a preparation for future talks or homilies. Frankly speaking, the train compartments today are much quieter than the bus cabins when I was small!
Because everyone is always using their mobile phones—parents with children, friends, couples or families can all be busy with their own business and rarely talk to each other— the silence inside the train seems to reveal the alienation of modern society and the loneliness of city dwellers.
People keep using their phones because there is a rush to do many things: replying to a message, making a phone call, looking for information, playing a phone game, and so much more! But what about the pursuit of eternal life? Do we race against time? The priority seat in the train is annoying. When it is empty, there is an internal struggle as to whether or not to sit in it. If someone sits in it, I will check whether the he or she is qualified or not, and I will become a judge. Luckily, I’ve reached the station, let’s get off.
Needless to say, from time to time I will come across a brother or sister in Christ in an MTR train compartment, and these encounters are very special. Some of them were so surprised that they almost jumped up and said to me, “Wow! Bishop, you took the MTR?” as if I had done something weird. Then there came an invitation to take a group selfie, which I found a bit humorous. I also bumped into some parishioners I hadn’t seen for many years, and we all seized the rare few minutes to have a short talk and tell each other how we were doing.
There were times when I felt embarrassed on the MTR, that is, when a parishioner older than myself gave up his seat for me after seeing me, and I was at a loss as to whether I should sit down or not. The most unforgettable time was when I met an elderly sister who was travelling home after a follow-up consultation at the hospital. As soon as she recognised me, she became very emotional and told me a lot about her illness and her difficult family situation, and finally, she asked me earnestly for my blessing. Although I was in public, how could I refuse such a request? The MTR becomes a place of listening and pleading, of intercession and blessing.
Our God is omnipresent, and certainly on the MTR!
