Persecution of Christians

There seems to be an increasing persecution of Christians around the world. I just learnt that it is also taking place in Hong Kong. 

Reminds me of this pretty old song by Mariah Carey. These words strike me particularly... 

"There's a light in me that shines brightly... There's an inner peace I own; something in my soul that they cannot possess... They can't take this precious love I'll always have inside me. Certainly, the Lord will guide me where I need to go."

This "light", "inner peace", this "precious love"... it is Jesus Himself. 
They can take away our symbols, our lives... but they cannot take away the truth of God and the values that the world's balance hangs upon. Certainly, they cannot take away our God in us. 

They can separate our heads from our bodies and drain out our blood that soaks the earth... but "Can anything cut us off from the love of Christ -- can hardships or distress, or persecution, or lack of food and clothing, or threats or violence; as scripture says: For your sake we are being massacred all day long, treated as sheep to be slaughtered? No; we come through all these things triumphantly victorious, by the power of him who loved us. For I am certain of this: neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nothing already in existence and nothing still to come, nor any power, nor the heights nor the depths, nor any created thing whatever, will be able to come between us and the love of God, known to us in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:35-39

Here's an excerpt from an article in this week's Catholic News: 

Catholics urged to 'hold firm' as religious symbols removed - 
"... the government has cracked down on Christianity in this city of more than 3 million people although the reason remains unknown... On Aug 3, Hong Kong's South China Morning Post reported local pastors saying that in the last seven months, at least three churches have been demolished and more than 160 crosses, including some at Catholic churches, were taken down because they exceeded the size allowed by the local government." 
~ Catholic News Singapore Vol 64 No. 17

Grant Us Your Peace - Prayer - Iraq's Christian Genocide

Dear Jesus, 

I come with nothing much at all. No political power or army, no wealth or influence. Nothing but my pleas, my imperfect love and my helplessness. And that's nothing much at all. But do hear me as I pray. 

See, Your people suffering, dying for Your sake. Your heart is pierced through as You watch Your people massacred, beheaded. 

See, this brutality. These, who no longer feel their conscience. They are Your children too, no? Are you not angry with these murderers? Do you not want to send down fire to burn them all into ashes? Or order a plague upon them like You did to the Egyptians? 

Yet, have I come to know You enough to glimpse a little into Your Sacred Heart? Watching them in their evil deeds and still, You love them with everything You are and desire for their souls to be saved. Your heart is pierced through even more as You watch them disfigure themselves, disfigured increasingly from Your image and likeness. Tears, streaming from Your eyes without stop. The wrenching pain in Your heart does not cease.

See, too, my heavy heart, my sadness. My helplessness. My self-doubts that I can ever witness to You in such a martyrdom. My hidden hope that You will never put me through such a test because I know I might fail You. See my distracted heart that will soon forget the plight of my faraway brothers and sisters until the next article I read or the next invitation to another prayer session. My hypocrisy that pleads for Your help for my dying fellow Christians but puts aside the long overdue reconciliations with those whose lives I have taken by my unChristlike thoughts, words and deeds. 

See, Jesus Dear, those in power who are too calculative to lend a hand. Too afraid to speak up, to get implicated. See, too, those others who go on living in their indifferences. 

But should we go to war? To fight a war with war? Should we start dropping bombs to wipe out Your people? Surely, there must be a more loving solution. Surely, You can do something. Maybe, in my mind is the thought of what You did to Saul on the road to Damascus. Maybe, I wish for a quick-fix, a dramatic and radical conversion of the whole world. But maybe, this isn't what You would do this time. Maybe, You want something more subtle, more thorough. 

And so, Lord, teach us Your ways and move our hearts. Move the hearts of those to whom You have allotted power and authority to intervene and save. 

Give us courage not to run from our sadness. Give us a compassionate concern to be in solidarity with those suffering through our prayers for them.  

Open the eyes of conscience of those who have gone astray, knock on the door of their hearts and plant in them the realisation of what they are truly doing. 

For those who have turned their backs on You like Peter did in the face of threat, grant them the grace to forgive themselves. Let not their destiny be like Judas' on the tree, not even as they live on in this life. Strengthen their faith in the silence of their hearts like You did to Nicodemus who came to You in the night. And fill them with Your Pentecostal Spirit. 

For those who have been killed, do not let their souls wander restlessly and bitterly but bring every one of them into Your comforting embrace, there to share in Your eternal glory. 

And for those who are going to die this moment on, ever-loving Jesus, stay close to them, hold them with Your graces. That they will make perfect Your image and likeness in them by repeating after You, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they are doing. Into Your hands, I commend my spirit." By this, to bear the greatest witness that You are the One True God, the God of infinite love and mercy, and render unto You the glory of Your name.

Finally, after speaking so much and laying out a to-do-list for You, let me at last be silent. Let me sit here with You for a while, my dear Jesus. With Your aching and bleeding heart. To be with You and feel with You, to tear with You and to love with You. 

Grant us all Your peace. 
Amen.

Hanging or Hanged

What do you think of sufferings? 
How do you normally react towards emotional pain?

Consider these... 

Can you sit side by side with sufferings and look at it in the eye, no matter how long that may last?

Or would your immediate reaction be to reject it and run far away from it? 

Maybe you would panic, lose control of your emotions which then grow into a tornado within your mind, tossing around everything it finds in its way? 

Or perhaps, you would refuse to let it take up your time and energy, and so you gather yourself together and get on with life? 

What do you do with the pain you feel? That yucky, awful, uncomfortable prick that sometimes grow beyond into a thorough pierce through your heart. A bleeding that sees no blood, an ache that painkillers cannot reach.

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No one likes to suffer and we would avoid it as best as we can. To do so, we device many defence mechanisms to keep pain out, or at least to temporarily not feel it. Be it to get high on drinks, blast the music, become very task-oriented... anything that would distract us from noticing the pain. 

Anything but sitting with the pain and allowing ourselves to feel its total intensity. We break records in our marathon run from our pains but... what are we really running from? If the pain is within us and we are running away from this pain, then isn't it true that we are also running away from our own selves? And if we run away from pain and ourselves, can we possibly grow in our union with Christ, who is most familiar with pain, most acquainted with sufferings? And so too, we are running away from God, and this cannot be life-giving. 

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Today in one of my lessons, a student stood in front of me for her music test. She comes in leggings everyday because her eczema condition is severe. Looking at the rash covering her arms, her face, surrounding her eyes, my heart melted and ached. It pricked and it pricked, over and over. 

Beyond the physical itch and annoyance, I cannot imagine what emotional pain she must be going through each time she looks at herself in the mirror, each time she scratches and tears her skin. Each time she tries a medication with a hope for a cure, only to be left disappointed once again, helpless. I got connected with her sufferings and the growing sparkle in my eyes almost gave me away. 

In that moment... I touched the sacred heart of Jesus. My heart merged with His for a while in that divine encounter. Sensus Christi, the sensing of Christ that St Paul speaks: that I may feel with your feelings, with the sentiments of your heart, which basically are love for your Father and love for humanity. 

If looking at her sufferings with my imperfect love could move my heart so much, how much more does Jesus' heart bleed when He watches us suffer?

For the first time, I could sense at least a small percentage of what God feels towards His people. I could feel how it pierces His heart just as it did to mine today.

It was an encounter with Jesus whose heart continues to be pierced through by our sins, our sufferings and pains. It was an encounter made possible only because I know suffering. And only by God's abundant graces, have sat side by side in many occasions with my pains, to look at them face to face, and invited the healing presence of God into the very midst of them. That somehow, God continues to invite and encourage me to throw open the gates of my heart to choose love, to choose vulnerability, because invulnerability leads to death. 

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Sufferings have the ability to form us interiorly in a very special and significant way. It grows us into compassionate beings, increasingly into the image and likeness of our Creator. It grows our hearts into the heart of Christ. We begin to feel with Him, to feel like Him, to love like Him. 

Jesus, in His last hours, faced immense sufferings. He could have done many things to escape the sufferings. But He chose none of it, only to hang. To hang there with hands outstretched. This hanging, this total submission to feel the extent of His pain and suffering, physical and most of all, emotional. This hanging which moves His heart to know the hidden pain of Man, and which then allowed Him to go even a step further to forgive and intercede for His own executioners and accusers. 

This same hanging we are invited to do in our own pain, our own down moments. Not to run, not to busy ourselves or complain, but to hang. To allow our hearts to be formed in compassion and love, patience and wisdom, discipline and courage. To allow our hearts to grow into the heart of Christ. 

Thus, do not fear pain which can only paralyse but cannot kill. We ought to be more fearful of what we do or don't do with our pains because these decisions can either lead to life in Christ or make us emotionally and spiritually hanged.

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Will you sit side by side with sufferings and look at it in the eye, no matter how long that may last?

Faulty Trains, Love Derailed

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It was one of those news that would set the citizens talking, criticising and complaining again. And indeed, it caused much inconveniences to many. Yesterday evening, a train with a brake fault resulted in trains travelling at a speed slower than usual. The eventual delay added 20 minutes to travelling time. 

While the fault was primarily within the faulty train, the deeper cause of this incident and the recurring interruptions to the public transport system may be rooted elsewhere. And its ripple effects are surely felt by many more. If a passenger has a tight schedule to keep to, an urgent matter to see to, the consequences may be direr and more difficult to manage than the good an apology can bring about.

In fact, apart from a faulty train, there are many other instances in which we have encountered the malfunctioning of something and the consequences it brings. A mobile phone dropped onto the road resulted in a cracked screen, a toothbrush’s bristles pointing in every direction but upright, a pillow that has flattened to half its height. There are many. And we know that once something loses its ability to function as it was made to, it will no longer be as useful as it could be. Something is just not right about it; it is no longer whole.

This which we notice about things. Can we recognise a similar pattern in people too? In the relationships we share? How we manifest a certain kind of behaviour we can never understand why? Until we dig a lot deeper within ourselves and find the deeper cause rooted in some other issues that never got resolved. And what ripple effects it must also cause others, damaging precious relationships.

Take for instance a person with commitment issues. The behaviour manifested – inability to commit in big and small matters. Unwillingness to marry someone one has been dating for more than a decade, just to name one example. The deeper question to ask is, “Why?” And in this case, what do I resist about entering into marriage with this person who is a good match for me? What is holding me back? What is the real cause?

One of the causes of commitment issues, if it is not the only, is invulnerability. To be unwilling and not daring to let ourselves be in a vulnerable position where we can be hurt. Certainly, no one chooses to be hurt and it is unwise to go around looking for hurts too. But to guard ourselves so that we will not get hurt, that no one will cause us to feel down, is a fatal defence mechanism that many people have come to learn and practice subconsciously.

It is fatal because we can only be hurt when we love, when the gates of our hearts are opened. To guard ourselves from hurt is a choice against love, to close tight our hearts so that other people will no longer influence and affect how we feel. So even if we cannot keep them far from us geographically, especially if they live under the same roof as us, then at least we keep at a distance from our hearts. 

And to choose not to love is to choose to die, to be zombified. We are made out of love, for love. Love is the energy that fuels our minds, bodies, hearts and souls; our lives! As the late Pedro Arrupe, SJ wrote:

Nothing is more practical than finding God, 

than falling in Love in a quite absolute, final way. 

What you are in love with, 

what seizes your imagination, 

will affect everything. 

It will decide what will get you out of bed in the morning, 

what you do with your evenings, 

how you spend your weekends, 

what you read, 

whom you know, 

what breaks your heart, 

and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. 

Fall in Love, 

stay in love, 

and it will decide everything.

People are afraid to love because of the fear of getting hurt. And this is because they have tasted hurt and know how awful it feels. The paranoia of having to experience such pain again can make us shut ourselves in and others out. So in our example, a person facing commitment issues may well be guarding himself against this vulnerability. If I believe that marriage is lifelong, then marriage means lifelong vulnerability. Because although I love this person now, what if it does not work out well? I cannot run, cannot escape. I am stuck and susceptible to more and deeper hurts. Scary and too huge a risk to take. 

Hurts left unhealed, unprocessed bring no growth in a person. On the contrary, they stifle, inhibit and cage us within those very wounds. We suppress and lose the ability to name those hurts, to know what is not right inside us. Something is just not right within; not whole anymore. That brake fault in the train, my anger that cannot find peace, insecurities that cannot find assurance, impulsiveness that cannot find control. 

Perhaps many Singaporeans will be pointing their fingers at the staff of SMRT for the lack of maintenance, for not responsibly ensuring the smooth running of the trains. Maybe the management will be looking downwards at the mechanics. Somewhere, somehow, whoever it may be, there is a missing link, a weakest link. Something else is not right that has caused the train to be recurringly faulty. Somewhere deeper within us, there might be something not right, not whole, causing the various manifestations in our unloving behaviours, words and thoughts. Until we decide to find and resolve those issues that lie deeper in us, these manifestations will keep recurring. Trains will keep breaking down. Relationships continue to be damaged because of our unloving. We cannot function as we are made to - to love. 

What is there in your deeper self that makes you less than whole? 

How can you seek good guidance to journey towards wholeness?

Que Sera Sera - Doris Day

I was reminded of this childhood song. After all these years, I'm just beginning to understand how difficult yet essential it is to say "que sera sera, whatever will be, will be".

This song points out a "whatever" attitude in the different stages of one's life - as a child, young adult in love, and as a parent. She is looking ahead into the uncertain future, wondering what is out there for her. She wishes to see what is there. Perhaps then life's transitions from child to teenager, teenager to adulthood, adulthood to parenthood will not be so unknown and frightening. 

And as her mother taught her, and she in turn passes this teaching to the next generation, the future is not for us to see. It takes one to the point of accepting this human limitation that we cannot predict the future. There are things beyond our understanding and knowledge. We only know that what will be will be. And in the eyes of faith, we know that God is in charge and because of His infinite love for us, whatever that will be must be for our good, for our betterment and not destruction. 

And so explains this indifference. Not in the manner of not caring or getting emotionally involved in what life will turn out to be. As the Chinese would say, "bo-chap" attitude. But an indifference because my life has been entrusted into the hands of God and thus, whatever, wherever, however, whenever, whoever... matters not. So long as His will be done. So long as its"Why" finds its answer only in love - love for God. 

It gives us great freedom when we arrive at this point in our faith journey to be able to sing this song of such an indifference. "Que sera sera. Whatever will be, will be. The future's not ours to see. Que sera sera. What will be, will be." To be able to say, "I don't know. But that's perfectly okay!" or, "It is unfortunate that this happened. I'm very disappointed. But that's okay!" 

That's okay because God is in control and He knows what He's doing. I give in to His love and let it enter and overpower my fears and anxieties.

Let us pray for this grace of faith and indifference. 

The Wind Beneath My Wings

Have you ever watched an eagle glide in the air? How it spends a lot of time in a day just opening its wings and letting the strong winds take it to great heights?

It is truly amazing that the eagle displays such a behaviour although perhaps, we can say it does not have the capacity to analyse and evaluate its actions, and neither can it make an examination of its inner motivations for doing so.  

But any hunter will know just how much an eagle's spreading of wings will increase his chances of spotting this animal and shooting it. It increases the eagle's surface area, making it more visible while on the move too. It makes the eagle more vulnerable to everything else in its surroundings. 

And this vulnerability is striking. It allows the eagle to effortlessly remain in the air for a very long period of time. It flaps its wings several times and then let the wind carry it up and around. You would see that at times, the eagles are not even circling the air. They simply remain very much in the same position, or sometimes, the wind can even carry them backwards. 

All of which speaks to me the invitation to imitate the eagle in my relationship with God. To let God be to me as the wind is to the eagle. The invitation to open wide my arms, rest in His love and let Him take me. To let His love take me wherever He wills, with an indifference in my heart, my will surrendered over to Him. And all I need to do is to wait, listen and respond. Not to "effortize", not to force out a path that isn't there, not to initiate a step before God shines the spotlight onto the way. 

This spreading of wings, opening of arms. It is also the same physical position Jesus took when He hung upon the cross, the same inner disposition of surrendering to the Father. Of total vulnerability. It was also the invitation to Peter at the sea of Tiberias, as Jesus said...  

John 21: 18-19
"In all truth I tell you, when you were young, you put on your own belt and walked where you liked; but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and somebody else will put a belt round you and take you where you would rather not go. In these words he indicated the kind of death by which Peter would give glorify God. After this he said, 'Follow me.'"

Within this invitation is the call to a process of maturing our faith. When our faith "grow(s) old", we will arrive at the conviction that our trust is absolutely safe when it is placed in God. While this conviction cannot be forced upon ourselves, it arises because our hearts have been sufficiently opened to acknowledge the wonders God has done for us in our lives, even amidst our down and out moments, our hurts and sufferings. 

When we can see and humbly admit that we deserve eternal condemnation by our sins, when we neither deny nor discount the terrible effects our sins have caused our victims. But yet, in our sinfulness, God continues to love us through the many blessings He still showers upon us. When we discipline our hearts to recognise with gratitude the hand of God in our lives, and not take for granted what we have. 

When we contemplate on the Gospels and realise how God continually refuses to let us, His people, go. How He steps over every boundary to call us home to our heavenly Father. Then we will grow. Grow in intimate knowledge, a deep knowledge in our hearts, of who God truly is. And faith grows out of this growing familiarity with Him who loves the imperfect us with His perfect love. Faith grows when we grow to trust in this love, and to surrender our insecurities to this love. 

Then, we need no longer be that little sparrow that has to flap its wings so vigorously and incessantly just to get from one point to another. We can trust the wind to take us. We can be free to allow ourselves to be taken. We need not try so hard, too hard. And when we are held up high in the air without having to fuss over the tiresome flapping of our wings, we can enjoy the beautiful scenery around us. Such freedom. When we need not focus all our energy on the endless doings in our everyday life, when we can let go to make space in our hearts for faith. When we need not be so guarded all the time from the uncertainties of the next moment. We are liberated. Life becomes a journey to savour and enjoy. No longer tiresome and burdensome. 

Just as Jesus said in this Sunday's Gospel (14th Sunday in ordinary time), "Come to me, all you who labour and are overburdened, and i will give you rest."

Since God's love will give us all that is good, we need only to keep in touch with Him, wait patiently, listen attentively and respond positively when He shows the way. And when He shows the way, it may not be the way we had in mind or desire to take. It need not be smooth and painless. Scary as this is, the path will nonetheless be laid out with every grace we need for the journey, which will ensure our own salvation because our salvation, our coming home to our Father, is what God desires for us. And the Spirit of God will accompany us. 

Stretching out our hands, making ourselves totally vulnerable to the evil that surrounds us in this world. Getting hurt, coming to Jesus for healing, and then choosing again to continue forgiving and loving. This is the death to which Jesus invites us. "Follow me," He said to Peter and now to us. Our martyrdom. Our discipleship. Making real our commitment to follow Christ. Death to ourselves - our gateway into the everlasting glory of God.  

We can only be vulnerable when our hearts are opened and filled with the life and love of God.

How has God loved you in small and big ways?

Imagine for a moment that you are that eagle soaring high. No agenda. No cages. 
Freely soaring. Freely be-ing. Allowing the wind to hold you up.

How do you feel?

What is preventing you from feeling this way in the reality of your life?

How is God inviting you to rest in His love?
Where in your life is He asking you to stretch open your arms and let Him take you?

Between Taking Charge & Letting Go

What I can remember of Fr Jojo Magadia SJ's homily this afternoon:

We are called to Christian leadership and yet, we face the tension between taking charge and letting go. Jesus in today's Gospel teaches us to let go when He said, "... foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head (not eggs)."

We can make plans and decisions for the future but along the way, it is God who will move us. 

Letting go frees up space in our hearts for faith. 
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How often do I insist on my way, forcing my plans through, even when doors still remain shut. 

How often do I resist surrendering to the will of God because I see a "greater" and even a more "noble", "holier" result in following my will instead.  

How often do I hang on to my will because God's will has too much uncertainties.

And yet, in these times, I am called to an act of faith. 

To let go of my pride and stubbornness, fears and worries, anxieties and apprehensions. To let go of me so that the Spirit of God can come under my opened, surrendered arms and carry me to where His will is. And where His will is is where He Himself is found. Only in giving in to the love of God can I open my arms and allow Him to take me. And then... and only then... I shall live and remain in Him.

"Only in love can I find you, my God. 
In love, the gates of my soul spring open, allowing me to breathe a new breath of freedom..."
~ Karl Rahner, SJ

Finding the Big Rock on Lantau

A Eurasian guy came up to me at the Path of Wisdom on Lantau island, Hong Kong, asking, "Do you know how I may get to the big rock? I remember coming by this way the last time I came and stood on the rock which overlooks the big Buddha. But I can't seem to find that path anymore."

Seriously, I had no idea where this big huge rock was. I didn't even know if it existed. So after looking through the map, I had to disappoint him with my 'no'. He went away after trying again in vain to recall the path that led to his rock. After all, it was 8 years ago that he was there. Maybe the rock was moved by the local authorities because it became unsafe to stand on?

From where I was, the path leading up the hill looked deserted and though I was very curious, wisdom told me not to go up alone though the herd of cows had already made their descent. I did tell the guy maybe he should go to the other side of the mountain and maybe it's there, since the other side leads to Lantau peak, from which, I thought, he would more logically be able to see the Buddha statue. But I guess he didn't because he was certain it wasn't on that side.

After some time, I made my way across a link, onto the other mountain across. Looking back from the opposite side of the Path of Wisdom, I actually saw that huge rock that man was asking me about. It was right on top of the hill and I could roughly make out the path leading to it too. I was filled with excitement and wanted to go tell the guy but I could not find him anywhere. If he had stayed on to search, if he had taken my suggestion to go to the other side of the mountain, he would have found it one way or another. He must have gone away really disappointed. 

All of which made me reflect on "SEARCHING". 

When we lose something, when we want to find something we long for, to what lengths do we go to search for it? Especially in the journey of faith. 

We search, we cannot find, we are disappointed, we feel discouraged. There's still hope.
We search again, we still cannot find, we are more disappointed and more discouraged. Hope is dwindling. 
We make one last search, God is still beyond reach. Throw in the towel. Enough. God's love is only given to some, and I'm not one of them.

If we continue searching, try a different path, go on trekking to another side, would we not find what is guaranteed to be there? Tracing through the paths of our memory for clues and signposts. Would we not find Jesus? Would He not find us?

Sometimes, we found Him but for some reason, some fault of ours, we lost Him again... and again. We got lost. We got distracted and lost him. We didn't know how to stay with Him and wandered off. And more often than not, by the time we realise we have gone off far on our own, we find ourselves helpless, hopeless, without a compass and a map. The task of finding our way back is daunting. Where do I put my foot next? In which direction? Where is north?

The good thing about many national parks is that there are park rangers, maps, signposts. I could gather wood, create a smoke signal, do something that helps others find me. 

Sometimes when I get lost, feel so far away from God and cannot find my way back to Him, I call out to my Father and tell Him that I really don't know the way home, asking if He would come get me. And He always does. He will somehow open my heart to accept and receive His embrace, His forgiveness and affirmation of His unconditional love. And in that breaking moment, I know I am home again, like the prodigal son in the Gospel parable. 

I go to my spiritual director and chat with mentors and spiritual companions. I stumble and fumble and stumble some more in prayer, trying to pray "right". I read books that point the way to God. I go for a jog and breathe in the love of God in nature, which energises me for the next few pages of life. 

And yet, even with these, many times, I still cannot find God. Not because He cannot be found but that I did not want to be found, though on the surface, I am doing the seemingly necessary things to find God again. Maybe because there are unpleasant feelings I don't want to feel, the ugliness of my own self that I would rather not confront, the messiness of my life that I just don't feel like looking at.  

But then, when I run, I can never be found. I can never live in the loving embrace of God. If I allow God to find me, if I go out in search of Him, I will certainly find Him waiting there. I will certainly find Him with arms wide open, to welcome, love, heal, forgive and shower blessings. He will overturn my life not to leave me in shambles but so that He can reorder and rearrange it beautifully. 

What joy that tourist would have experienced if he had finally stood there on that rock, looking down at the valleys, across at the mountains, and upon the magnificent statue of the Buddha. 

Jesus is that Treasure, which, when found, will lead us to sell away all our possessions to buy it. 

Question is... 
How serious are we in our search?
Do we really want God to find us?
To what lengths are you willing to go to have this Treasure?

Stepping Into The Barrel

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A tightrope walker was about to cross between 2 skyscrapers on a tightrope and all the onlookers were aroused with excitement and anticipation. He took his first step and some time later, confidently arrived at the end of the rope. Everyone cheered with a sense of relief and amazement. Then, he announced that he was going to attempt something even more difficult. He was going to walk on a beer barrel on the tightrope. This got the audiences even more excited than before. 

Before attempting this dangerous fit, he asked a lady in the crowd, "Do you believe that I can make it across on the barrel?" And the lady replied instantly, "Yes, definitely, I do! I've watched you and believe you can do it!" The man said, "Since you believe in me, would you step into the barrel and let me walk you across?" The excitement on the lady's face dropped immediately. 

To believe IN someone is to bet our lives on that person. It entails our personal involvement in what or who we say we believe in. 

If this tightrope walker is not just any human person but is Jesus Himself, will this be sufficient for me to get into the barrel? Will this be sufficient for you to get into the barrel? Will you entrust your life that completely? It is one thing to believe in the existence of God and another to believe IN God. Just as this lady in the story above believes in the skill of the tightrope walker (no personal involvement) but is unable to bet her life on him (now her life depended on him). 

When I say that I believe in Jesus, when I say that I believe in God, when you proclaim too that you do each time you say the Creed, each time we make the sign of the cross, ... let us make a more deliberate effort to be conscious of how completely or not we are letting go of our fears and need for certainty to bet our lives on God. And if we realise that a part of us still holds back, still prevents us from getting into that barrel, or that we might enter the barrel but drill a hole to peek out for any signs of danger, could it be that we have not encountered Jesus sufficiently to be assured of his trustworthiness, of his love that wills not for our disaster but our flourishing? 

Then, what avenues can we take to encounter Jesus more deeply? To grow in our intimate knowledge of who He really is?

Pleasure Is Necessary

One takeaway from tonight's Moral Theology class...

We need to do things daily that give us pleasure. Now the word "pleasure" is very misunderstood and wrongly used in our secular world. Pleasure does not just equate feeling good. Pleasure = the resting of the soul, and since it is the RESTING of the soul, it has to be free from wrong pleasures, free from disproportionate dwelling in the pleasure (addictions) and being proportionate to the age and dignity of the person.

I would like to think of this as doing what gives me life. Wholesome pleasure. It takes at least self-awareness, prudence and honesty to know what gives me life and what does not. Smoking may make me feel good in the moment but it quite obviously is not life-giving. Jogging may not make me feel good in the moment because I feel the stings in my muscles but it gives me life and loosens up my stiff muscles, fills me with enough an adrenaline rush to supply the positive energy to do what I need to. Music gives me life though not all genres do. Being in nature gives me life; that somehow, when I am in oneness with this unspoilt creation, I quite naturally am uplifted, relaxed and at peace.

I love window shopping but if I were to do this for hours everyday, then it becomes life-draining because I would also recognise the other better things I can do with that time. Window shopping does not add value to my life. It just gives my eyes a treat since I love admiring things that are aesthetically pleasing and tasteful. On top of knowing what to do that is life-giving, I too need to be aware of the amount to fill my life with it so that it remains truly a time of rest for my soul.

With the kind of stresses we face in life today, we need all the more to give ourselves the disciplined time for pleasure. The problem is that we often don't know what truly gives us life and what does not. We misunderstand pleasure to be about feeling good. And end up doing things that do not actually give rest to our souls and end up feeling restless again very soon after. Dissatisfied very soon after we experience some satisfaction. A filling which finds us too quickly feeling empty again.

If we feel overwhelmed, restless, drained, low on energy emotionally, psychologically, spiritually and even physically... maybe it is time to have a break, have a kitkat... do something that gives us life, that truly lifts up our souls... and it can be as simple as savouring a small piece of chocolate melting away in your mouth, as deliberate as getting to the beach for a stroll or waking up early to catch the sunrise.

What is one thing you can do to give wholesome rest to your soul this week?

Rabbit Carrot Gun - Part II

The Mass readings this week seem to point me in the direction of living in uncertainties and which reinforces my Rabbit Carrot Gun learning journey takeaway - responding rather than effortising/initiating - some weeks back.

What struck me were the readings of how the apostles had to elect committees and appoint people to take on roles to see to the various needs that sprung up along the way as they founded the early Church. The focal point for me is "along the way".

It got me to realise more consciously that when Peter led the apostles as the first Pope of the Church, he, along with everyone else, did not know what in the world they were going to do, how in the world they were going to bring the good news to the ends of the earth. All they probably had was the great desire to do anything, go anywhere, be anyone for the Master they came to know, love and desire to serve.

They probably had no visions, no mission statements, no long term plans to work towards, no proposals and PowerPoint presentations of these proposals and projections. What was once informal meetings to remember Jesus has now become the Mass we participate in. No dreams of building churches, nor convents or seminaries, retreat houses. No idea how to even have such dreams that would be quite out of this world in those times. No idea what problems they would encounter, no backup plans, wet-weather plans... Nothing. Fumbling, stumbling, failing, making errors... How are we the Church we are today?

All of which points me back to "responding". A problem surfaced. They met, discerned, discussed, agreed and executed the solution. New needs sprung up. They elected suitable people according to their gifts to see to those needs. Every step of the way, when there seemed to be a new realisation, a new obstacle, a new situation, they responded as best as they could, without following any manuals for discernment, but always being opened to the Holy Spirit's promptings and guidance with docility, obedience and total self-giving. They responded, experienced new things, responded, experienced new things, ... growing, learning, maturing.

The Church is not what it is today because of a 2000 years proposal Peter or any of the apostles drew up and passed down one generation to the next. It is what it is because people have been responding with love and courage, faith and hope in the One who leads them as their Good Shepherd. The Church is not built upon the initiatives of Man but upon Man's generous responses to the initiatives of God - planted in hearts' desires, problematic situations, etc. And perhaps, this is the right relationship between God and Man - that we are merely followers of the One who leads and creates.

And the question for us in our time is...
What is God initiating in our lives? And what will our response be?

My Heart's Desire

How do you know what your passions are...? Or what or who do you really like? The answers are found in what we cannot live without. By this, I don't mean to die without them but that being without, we just are not ourselves anymore. There is an emptiness, there is discomfort and a restlessness that cannot seem to be filled. 

I'm reminded of this today especially as I cannot hear as well the beautiful music coming from the player with my blocked ears, as I cannot sing what I want to express in song with my phlegm-filled throat, as I cannot savour food with my dysfunctional taste buds. Where my daily movements are highly restricted as I am confined to my bed and dreamland most of the time. I am reminded of how much music adds flavour to my life, how much I cannot do without it. 

But above this was a moment of being in front of St. Joseph's statue at church today, staring at him on this occasion of his feast day and allowing the moment to transport me into the history of the church. The invitation to sainthood that all of us are called to, the invitation to lead holy lives, God-focused lives. Beneath the yearnings to do the things I like to but cannot do now because of the infection, lies the greatest yearning of God Himself. A restlessness that makes all other restfulness restless. That nothing quite strikes a chord within me the way it does when I am one with Him. 

To be without Him, like Cleopas and the other disciple who were leaving Jerusalem in today's Gospel, comes the temptation to flee from His absence, if this is possible at all. The temptation to run away from the restlessness most tangible in what seems to be a waiting without a sure end. And there they were, walking away from the place in which all there was left was emptiness, a confrontational newness of His absence that forces them into a depressing unfamiliarity filled with confusion, disillusionment, fear and loss. 

And yet, Jesus caught up with them in their walking away, reminded them of the consolation they once enjoyed of having their hearts burn with the assuring presence of their Master, when their hearts were at rest, being one with Him. It was that fond familiarity as Jesus explained the scriptures and broke the bread that ignited their hearts again with the love and joy, the excitement and decisiveness to return to that very place they had already associated with hopeless waiting and despair. The fond familiarity that opened the heart to recognise what and who one truly loves and desires. And when the heart recognises this, our life course changes forever.

Who is that missing note that completes and makes full the chord in your heart?

Christ Enters My Giving

Listening to the brokenness and pain that people have to endure, the helplessness of a life that knows no way out, the messiness of a collection of painful situations that seems never to be resolved... 

Sitting with a person in all these...

Facing the helplessness within my own self, the loss for words most of the time, the compassion and empathy that stirs my heart so deeply... 

What can I offer? 
What do I have that I may offer?

Nothing I can give to erase the errors of the past, to dissolve the cutting pain, to gather the broken pieces. Nothing I can give that is possibly worth receiving... nothing... until Christ enters my giving. 

When He enters, He enters through my history, my many failures and learnings, pains and healings, my countless experiences of struggling, of not knowing, of fumbling, of messing up, of being lost and groping in the dark. And only with these do I truly have something worth giving - the very gift of myself, of my life - not an empty, shattered, worthless shell but a life that God has entered into to bring His presence, goodness and resurrection, breathing life into what was dead. 

All of which leads me to ask again, "What can I offer?"
What am I offering the other each time I minister? What am I truly giving if not the precious gift of God Himself?

I am giving the God who has been in my life, labouring tirelessly in all my good and bad. I am giving God in the person He has made me to be.

And because it is Him I am giving, it makes the giving worth giving. And because it is Him the other is receiving, it makes the receiving worth receiving. 

And it makes sitting with a fellow pilgrim, on this our journey to the eternal Jerusalem, in all her pain and troubles, one of the most life-giving experiences I can ever have. 

White over Black

I remember doing some paintings as a child, and there were those anxiety-filled moments when I made a wrong stroke by accident and there, in the place where I did not want, a black spot stared right back at me. And I would be frantically trying to cover the black spot with white paint, hoping to cover up the eyesore. With more experience, I came to learn that if I had put a thick enough layer of white paint, the black did eventually "disappear"; no cause for too much worry.

Well, the black did not quite disappear because I could never remove the black paint from where it should not be. All that happened was that the black had been overwhelmed by another colour - white. And indeed, the more white paint, the more the black gave way. 

Looking back on the past 8 days of Easter, it might be timely to pause and consider how we have been these days. 

People are wishing one another a happy easter, that the joy of our risen Lord will fill all our hearts. Yet, do we really feel this joy? What joy can there be since our problems never did disappear at that Easter Vigil Mass, our challenges and struggles remain as that prominent eyesore staring back at us, difficult people remain difficult, failures continue to remind us of that wrong stroke we have made on the paintings of our lives? What joy are we really wishing one another? What joy are we truly receiving?

Much as I would like life to be perfect like a painting without errors, we all know that life is never perfect. Easter, perhaps, isn't about having all our struggles, sufferings and failures removed so that life becomes a bed of roses. Easter, the celebration of new life, isn't about a new life without worries and troubles. Instead, it is a new life that includes Jesus into this painting. And because He has conquered even death, in Jesus we find the abundance of hope and certainty, the supreme White that overcomes all errors, all black spots, all unwanted strays of the brush. If we allow Jesus to grow in us, although no black spots can be removed, we will experience the joy of Easter, the joy of new life, the joy of Jesus coming to shed His light and His love upon all the darkness in our lives, the joy of Jesus's graces triumphing over all. The white increases till it has all under itself. 

But is this enough for us? 
Is Jesus' coming into our brokenness really enough for us? Are we contented or is there a space in our hearts that still asks for a perfect life? A convenient and trouble-free life? 
Is there really no life in imperfections? That life can only be found in perfections?

If we but remember those times in our life experiences when somehow, the imperfect moments were the very moments brimming with the life that comes from submitting to God's Holy Will... from allowing Him into the blackest spots so that He can overcome them with His brilliant white... from surrendering the mastership of my life into the true Master's hands. Remembering always, too, that God allows black only because He is that mighty power who overcomes all. 

Where is God, what is He saying in the blacks of your life? 

Where Are You? A Bedside Reflection

I sat there by his bedside without him knowing I was there. I watched him as he slept, I watched the movements within me. The nurse came to draw his blood not knowing that the doctor had already done so earlier. They brought a new pack of glucose drip and connected it to the needle stuck in his hand, took a machine and scanned the code on his paper wristband. He had two wristbands with different codes - a bar code and a QR code. And all these while, I sat quietly at a corner, watching, pondering.

The future is unknown; not even the next minute or the next second is known. Not just his life but all our lives too. This is the fragility of life that Man forgets most conveniently as we scurry from one place to another, one appointment to another. 

My eyes welled up as my heart enlarged. People say that a medical patient seem to be less dignified as they are subjected to this and that test, the topic of observation and discussion. But is it true? Even with tubes running everywhere, even labelled with alphabets and numerals written with marker pens on plastic bandages stuck onto one's hand, even when all the depth and richness of one's life experiences seem to be dismissed and one identity becomes encapsulated in just some superficial details encoded in some squarish black spots or lines of different thickness. Even so, here lies a human person still mysteriously remaining in the image and likeness of God. Here lies a person who is apparently God's beloved child. 

But if this is God's beloved child, then it is even more perplexing. And I found myself turning to God, asking, "Where are You? Where are You in all these?" I searched for an answer in the silence rudely interrupted by the beeping rhythm of the machines. Can it be that somehow, amidst all these, God is still present and alive? That He has not left, not even for a moment? It must be. But where is He?

Then came a tiny voice, so gentle and firm, "Am I not here?" And I understood. "Am I not here?" in me to him, as I have come to lend a support, to extend the love of Christ, to pray, to care and love, to accompany. "Am I not here?" in me through whom God continues to affirm of His presence and care. "Am I not here?" also in him to me, as through him, I am challenged to care and love my brother in Christ, to open wider my heart and grow in compassion and faith. In the people who have chosen this line of work in the medical field to care and cure. In the facilities of this hospital that continually upgrades itself to give the best possible care and treatment.

But perhaps, what I had demanded from God was healing as I asked Him at the start, "Would You not do anything? You have the power. I don't. Would You not do something?" And so His presence through me to my friend feels inferior. How often do I dictate how I want God to manifest Godself in the harsh reality of everyday life so that life is made easier, more convenient, and faith becomes less farfetched?

Yet, God is still God and we are still creatures. Perhaps, God answered best my question of where He is in His invitation to surrender to this reality. The reality of my creaturehood in the light of His divinity. Can I, without fully comprehending His ways, without seeing His master plan, still believe without questioning that God's love never fails, even when what is before my eyes looks nothing like the 'love' I want, demand, hope for, pray for, and define it to be? That somehow, in my desire to surrender and live as a creature, discontinuing the pursuit to be the god-in-control, I may then receive the grace to let go and submit, and in this grace, to welcome the very presence of God Himself into my heart. That somehow, to find God, I need to first lose myself.