Spreading Easter's joy

This past Lent, I felt the weight of my sins crucifying me on the cross with Jesus. It has been a long, dreary haul and I could not wait for Easter to come.

The Easter Vigil celebration was that first burst of invigorating rain on the drought-hit landscape of my soul. The joy of the readings and psalms, coupled with the baptismal effervescence of newly minted neophytes gave me a lightness of heart. Despite my failings, I have not been condemned but redeemed.

As Saint Paul reminded the Romans, if I die with Christ then I will also resurrect with Him. Sin no longer has a hold on my life. That is not to say I will not sin again, but that I am not enslaved by sin (unless I choose to be). I can come alive to God in Christ Jesus. The new life of baptism is always within my grasp.

So when I fail, I should not let it defeat me. I can repent by not repeating my mistake again. I can resolve to become a better person by noting my weaknesses and not giving in to them. And when I am stuck, I can turn to Jesus and seek His help. In turn, He will send people and opportunities my way to help whip me into shape. I just need to be open to His Spirit of newness in everyone I meet and everything I do.  

As the words of the hymn we sang on Saturday night go:

Take, O take me as I am, summon out what I shall be,
Set your seal upon my heart and live in me.

Father Vaz reminded those present that the fundamental message of Easter is mission. As believers of the resurrected Christ, we should embody the joy of Easter and be so empowered by the Good News that we expend all our energies in sharing it.

After all, isn't joy worth spreading? Much like love, joy does not bloom fully unless we give it away to others. So go spread some Easter joy.

Longing for good news with a heavy heart,

I turn and see him - the one who rocks my world!

How is it I did not recognize him earlier?

It must be my fears that blight my sight and muffle my hearing.

He quiets my misgivings and fills me with deep joy.

For his love for me gleams brightly in the wound on his side,

And the ones on his hands, his feet, and his crown.

Am I worth dying for? I hardly think so.

But he thinks otherwise, for that I thank God.

The impossible dream is mine to have and hold,

It can be yours, too, if you take the plunge.

The water's amazing, luxuriate in its life-giving force.  

Unmasking fear

We all wear a mask of civility to self-censor inappropriate behaviour and exercise impulse control. It is good and necessary, enabling us to be more socially adapted and competent as individuals. For example, much as we would like to throttle someone who is full on obnoxious or impossibly obtuse, we do our best to maintain a calm and polite exterior to get through an encounter without initiating a brawl.

The only danger is when the mask goes beyond civility and becomes a prison inside which we are miserable. When we cannot express our true feelings and we suppress them; when we hide especially the self-perceived ugly bits of who we are, always wearing a game face, there are consequences.

We have no freedom to be who we are, always trying hard to be someone, something else. We do not give ourselves permission to experience certain emotions, and when we do experience them, we get depressed, unable to handle the inner conflict. We get aggressive or we run away (the classic fight or flight). We get trapped within negative patterns of behaviours. We measure our self-worth by our accomplishments, thinking we will only be worthy of love if we perform well.

I suffer from the need to be perfect or the need to engineer a perfect world and this need is at odds with my emotional and spiritual growth. The "perfect" mask stifles me most when it comes to managing conflict for fear born of my legion of insecurities and the agonies of my puny self-esteem often invokes immature reactions from me. I find it extremely frustrating.

For this reason I am grateful for the gift of the people in my life with whom I can be myself. These are a small group of people who love me for who I am. With them I can be my unexpurgated, unsanitized self, knowing they will still care for me even when I am my ugliest. They give me the confidence and impetus to expand beyond myself. Chief among them is this man called Jesus Christ.

He is my go-to guy when I am bleeding heavily from the gaping wounds of my hurts, failures and losses, inconsolable from grief and regret. He knows exactly what to do to mend my fractured heart, restore my soul and bring me back to life. And to smile with me when I get it right.

Jesus is also my model for living with unmasked integrity. He could see, accept and love people for who they were, without judging them. Because of that, He could deliver truths in such a way that He transformed lives for the better. And He did it without fear of being rejected or reviled. Without pretence. His genuine love and respect for human dignity beats the plastic hypocrisy of political correctness hands down.

When we live as Jesus did, inspired only by love to reach out to others and bring the light and goodness of truth, then we will not be crippled by fears or masks that distort the beauty of our beings. We will be able to rise above our own inadequacies and sensitivities to become people who walk in freedom, unhampered by our lesser inclinations. We become less ego-centric and more Christ-centric, even in the face of difficulties.

Living with integrity may not necessarily be a cinch, or win prizes, demonstrated so aptly by the impending Passion of Christ, but the unity of thinking, feeling and acting with one accord makes for peace of mind and soul. Jesus made it through the worst night of His life with the help of His Father and faced death with grace.

I may not always like the people around me or the situations I find myself in, but I can display a similar strength of character. So rather than get discouraged, depressed or react childishly, there is a better way. I can pray to see the world through the eyes of Jesus and go beyond my own myopic fears and defensive masks.  

Living words

Uncle H just passed away early this week and I am greatly saddened. He was such a warm, gentle and generous man, always so hospitable when we visited Malacca.

I am glad that the last time I saw him, just about a year ago, I affirmed him that he would not be forgotten for he was loved. His sorrow was that he did not have children to carry out the rites that the living do for the dead to ease their sojourn in the afterlife. So when I assured him that I would remember him and pray for him, he was moved.

His death not only reminds me that life is transitory, it highlights as well the necessity of saying the things you want to say, instead of keeping it in your heart. When it comes to feelings, one should state even the obvious, rather than taking it for granted that the other person knows you love them.

F flew home on a surprise visit last weekend to join in the birthday celebration of her daughter-in-law. She believes that one must put effort into demonstrating love, and sometimes, a gesture that entails considerable sacrifice tells the other I love you and you are important to me. I could not agree with her more.

While I still find it difficult to speak words of affection, especially those three little words, I love you, to people whom I love, I am learning. Being Asian, I tend to be functional in how I show love. I do the housework. I cook. I take care of the bills. I try to be thoughtful, to take care of needs the other has not even realized she or he has. I note what the other likes and try to gift things that bring pleasure.

It is all well and good, but acts of service, giving gifts, a loving touch or spending quality time together are all not enough if the words of love are missing. Words of affirmation and love that have the power to bless someone profoundly are important. And while it is nice to speak and hear such words during special occasions or celebrations, an unexpected kind word on an ordinary day somehow raises the level of the day into a different stratosphere. The bonus in affirming others in this way is how a blessing meant for another actually rebounds as well, an echo effect of sorts.

Given the way I used my tongue to grievous effect last week, and how disappointed I was with myself, this week has taught me that I can get it blissfully right, especially when I disallow my own need to be perfect control me.

When I speak out of a place of pure sincerity and strength, unmarred by my own shadows, the light of God's love shines brightest, penetrating even the most hardened of hearts (especially my own).

Blessed John XXIII said:

"Consult not your fears but your hopes and your dreams. Think not about your frustrations, but about your unfulfilled potential. Concern yourself not with what you tried and failed in, but with what it is still possible for you to do."

As we move closer towards Holy Week, I am inspired to fast from hurtful, angry words and continue to fulfil my potential, hopes and dreams of becoming a woman who speaks the living truth, blessing others in both word and action.

Thank you Uncle H for the gift of your life and I will remember you by emulating your gracious and gentle ways as best I can. May eternal light shine upon you.