Pride in Christ

When I refuted an inference that I may have dallied with a former boyfriend by saying I never look back on relationships I left behind, plus, I do not believe in pre-marital sex, T said I was born in the wrong era and was like Rapunzel in an ivory tower, and she would buy me a chastity belt for my birthday. I found her remarks pejorative and mildly hostile although they were couched in 'humour'.

It never ceases to amaze me how strong a reaction others have to my personal decision to live out my Catholic faith actively, especially in the matter of chastity. What is it that makes others do their utmost to change my mind or mock me? Why is sexual abstinence so socially unacceptable?

Is it so unimaginable that I can be a sexually vibrant and fulfilled woman (yes, I do see myself as such), just because I abstain from sexual relations? Is it so hard to believe that I am no slave to my sexual urges, nor do I feel desperately and unhappily incomplete or defective as a woman if I lack the attention of men?

A recent address by Robert P. George* to the National Catholic Prayer Breakfast caught my attention. He opened by saying:

The days of socially acceptable Christianity are over. The days of comfortable Catholicism are past. It is no longer easy to be a faithful Christian, a good Catholic, an authentic witness to the truths of the Gospel. A price is demanded and must be paid. There are costs of discipleship—heavy costs, costs that are burdensome and painful to bear.

He went on to say:

The question each of us today must face is this: Am I ashamed of the Gospel? And that question opens others: Am I prepared to pay the price that will be demanded if I refuse to be ashamed, if, in other words, I am prepared to give public witness to the massively politically incorrect truths of the Gospel, truths that the mandarins of an elite culture shaped by the dogmas of expressive individualism and me-generation liberalism do not wish to hear spoken? Or, put more simply, am I willing, or am I, in the end, unwilling, to take up my cross and follow Christ?

Powerful forces and currents in our society press us to be ashamed of the Gospel—ashamed of the good, ashamed of our faith’s teachings on the sanctity of human life in all stages and conditions, ashamed of our faith’s teachings on marriage as the conjugal union of husband and wife. These forces insist that the Church’s teachings are out of date, retrograde, insensitive, uncompassionate, illiberal, bigoted—even hateful. These currents bring pressure on all of us—and on young Catholics in particular—to yield to this insistence. They threaten us with consequences if we refuse to call what is good evil, and what is evil good. They command us to conform our thinking to their orthodoxy, or else say nothing at all.

George covered the usual sticky issues of what Gospel living means in the context of Catholic doctrine such as the dignity of the human person (abortion and contraception violate that dignity) and the nature of sexual morality and marriage (chastity before and after marriage, plus the sanctity of the marital covenant is valid only for couples of the opposite sex, no such thing as same sex marriage, an oxymoron if there ever was one). He went on to say:

To be a witness to the Gospel today is to make oneself a marked man or woman. It is to expose oneself to scorn and reproach. To unashamedly proclaim the Gospel in its fullness is to place in jeopardy one’s security, one’s personal aspirations and ambitions, the peace and tranquility one enjoys, one’s standing in polite society. One may in consequence of one’s public witness be discriminated against and denied educational opportunities and the prestigious credentials they may offer; one may lose valuable opportunities for employment and professional advancement; one may be excluded from worldly recognition and honors of various sorts; one’s witness may even cost one treasured friendships. It may produce familial discord and even alienation from family members. Yes, there are costs of discipleship—heavy costs. 

He likens this period that Catholics who seek to live out their faith in fullness as Good Friday, a time of trial and testing and encourages us not to forget that the Easter of our lives is coming and therefore not to be ashamed of the Gospel, and to keep hoping.

Today's Gospel from John 15:18-21 reminds us:

If the world hates you, realize that it hated me first.
If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own;
but because you do not belong to the world,
and I have chosen you out of the world,
the world hates you.
Remember the word I spoke to you,
‘No slave is greater than his master.’
If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you.
If they kept my word, they will also keep yours.
And they will do all these things to you on account of my name,
because they do not know the one who sent me.” 

To be a follower of Christ is seriously scary. Every day Christians are persecuted and killed, their homes destroyed, their places of worship violated.  Christianity is also under siege by the world for espousing the Gospel values George talks about.

As a Christian living in a city that promotes racial and religious harmony, I am grateful that I can express my faith freely. Perhaps because I don't have to fight for my faith, I tend to be a little more complacent, my faith not tested to the fullest extent.

I can only pray that if I deny Jesus as Saint Peter did (and I know I will) that, when it really counts, I would be willing to be crucified upside down as he was. In the meantime, may I be granted the grace to live and sing the Gospel with pride.

* To read the transcript of this rousing speech, go to http://www.zenit.org/en/articles/ashamed-of-the-gospel 

Temptation

No one ought to consider himself a true servant of God who is not tried by many temptations and trials.

I read this quote from Saint Francis of Assisi with great relief. Despite constantly striving for virtue and the greatest good, I sometimes feel I am going nowhere for I am seething with temptations within, and I fall into sin as easily as I did before my Damascus experience. I am sure I exaggerate for I must have progressed somewhat, but it sure feels that way, much to my chagrin. So, Saint Francis, thank you.

Although I know that to be tempted is not a sin if I do not act out what I am tempted to do, it still feels pretty much like a sin when temptation pops into my head and I kinda let it sit there a while, contemplating, and even luxuriating in it (sailing a little too close to the wind here), before banishing it with prayerful resolve.

It is quite interesting to note that there are different grades of temptation, some easily dealt with, while others tend to be a little more persistent, much like pet sins that plague us regularly despite our best efforts. But then, given that there are venial and mortal sins, I suppose it makes sense that there are temptations of varying strengths.

I also know that my strongest weaknesses (although A would tell me that weakness is strength in excess) will always be the most challenged and these are the ones I safeguard against the most zealously. I once asked E how do I deal with the heavy duty ones, and she told me to offer them up to the Lord to sanctify. This actually works. So it is important to acknowledge and give up our weaknesses for only in humble supplication can God's transformative power be made perfect; temptation, and sin, vanquished.

It is imperative that we have an ongoing, maturing awareness of self. Self-knowledge that aids a well-formed conscience is one of our most effective weapons against temptation, apart from our openness and desire to improve ourselves.

But merely knowing our shadows is grossly inadequate; we have to want to overcome weakness, or else it becomes a greater obstacle to our spiritual growth. When we fall into sin knowingly, it not only bumps the gravity of the sin up one notch, taking us further away from God, it also erodes our moral fibre and our confidence in combating sin in general.

It's much like walking, and falling knowingly into a pit, then mouldering there in gloomy self-exile. We may convince ourselves that a particular sin is the source of our greatest happiness but we would only be fooling ourselves momentarily (check out the parable of the prodigal son and you will see what I mean).

Conversely, we might despair, causing us to stay away from the Father and His healing love even longer. Worse, we give up, or we can are unable to differentiate between right and wrong any more, thereby opening the door even wider for evil to take root more vigorously in our hearts and lives.

There is no such thing as a little sin or a little evil: from a single seed, an entire forest can proliferate in the blink of an eye. You cannot control it, it is most insidious. Just when you thought it could not get any worse, sin happens to have a social aspect, meaning what you do impacts others. Your actions may cause others to sin, or incur collateral damage. Even if damage is not apparent, every sin committed makes the world a darker, and sadder, place, tipping the scales between good and evil toward evil.

So befriend your shadows and coax them every day into the light of God's grace to diminish in strength. The consciousness examen is inestimable in this endeavour. Call it super-strength weed killer for it helps us spot even the seeds that are naked to the human eye, and eradicate them.

If they do not go away, this is where the second part of Saint Francis's quote kicks in, it becomes a trial to be endured, much like Saint Paul's thorn in his flesh. After all, it is an imperfect world we live in so why should we be perfect while inhabiting it? It would only serve to make us insufferable, hardly saintly.

Speaking of saintliness, I found another gem of a quote by Leon Bloy (read this twice in two days which means it is worth sharing):

Life offers only one tragedy in the end: not to have been a saint. 

If you are seriously considering becoming one, this is answered aptly by Peter Kreeft in life lesson 12, in his book Before I Go:

A saint is one who loves God simply, with whole heart, mind and soul. 

What's stopping you?

Take home lessons

Today is the last day of my vacation. While a tiny part of me does not want it to end and wishes I could live here (I really love Hawaii), most of me is looking forward to going home.

This, here, is not real life. It is more like a beautiful dream, to be savoured for all the wonderful experiences I have been gifted with, but nonetheless, a dream. Fleeting, perhaps prophetic, but it is only by waking up from my dream can I fully participate in life.

My family, my friends, my work, my ministry, all these exist back home in Singapore. I can make a difference at home. I matter most to people back home. Singapore is where my mission fields lie right now, so homeward bound.

P suggested I go round-island on one last jaunt today, but I prefer to spend the day in solitude and minimal activity, to say goodbye by remembering what I have been given on this trip and to dwell on what gems I take home with me.

The natural beauty - from the crystalline azure waters, to the lush, emerald volcanic ridges on the windward side reaching into the brilliant blue skies - has assaulted my senses, making me realize that I need to do more in terms of stewardship.

To help preserve nature and do more in terms of going green. This was what the ancient Hawaiians embodied, and this love and respect for the land still rings loud and  true today.

Thank you Kumu Sam Ohu Gon III for the deeply spiritual Huli Kauwela that marked the changing of the seasons, and for showing me how one lives and breathes passion and commitment.

In keeping with loving the earth, I can also do more to honour the dignity of others, especially the lepers of today, people who are persecuted, rejected or forgotten by others. On a more personal level, people whom I avoid or find hard to love, I should do more to befriend them, making time for them. I draw inspiration from Saint Damien and Saint Marianne of Moloka'i who loved with such supernatural compassion and heart.

What struck me while reading the stories of those who were sent to Moloka'i in the Damien and Marianne of Moloka'i Heritage Center was the Hawaiian concept of 'ohana, family. How strong the bonds were between husband and wife, parents and their children, and how they did everything possible to be together, sacrificing much, and how heartbroken they were when separated. Although I love and treasure my family ties, I can see I can always do better in terms of nurturing those relationships. I have to admit I have let the busyness of life be my excuse quite frequently.

Finally, the Gospel readings on the Good Shepherd this week have given me a renewed sense of mission and brought into focus what the fifth decade of life holds for me. It certainly pays to bring Jesus on vacation for He reveals such delightful gifts each day, and shows me how much He loves me in extremely creative and numerous ways.

The sense of freedom I have embraced these last two weeks is one I bring home with me to take up the tasks and responsibilities of my vocation, my life. As Jesus said in John 10:11-18:

This is why the Father loves me,
because I lay down my life in order to take it up again.
No one takes it from me, but I lay it down on my own.
I have power to lay it down, and power to take it up again.
This command I have received from my Father.

My brief sojourn in Hawaii can best be summed up in one thought: When I choose to love in Christ's Spirit, then I will be given the power to love unreservedly and unconditionally, healing and liberating not just others, but myself, in the process. Freedom rules.

Call to sainthood

Saint Damien of Molokai is known as the leper priest and he was the first priest to volunteer to minister to the lepers who were sent to live in quarantine on the island of Moloka'i.

The then Father Damien arrived in Kalaupapa on May 10, 1873 and stayed, bringing order and hope to the lepers abandoned there to fend for themselves until he himself contracted leprosy and died at the age of 49 in 1889.

At the time, not many people understood leprosy or Hansen's disease and going there was a death sentence for leprosy was thought to be highly contagious and incurable. No one got to leave.

Father Damien is a saint that speaks to me for several reasons. First, he was not the one chosen to go to Hawaii. But because his biological brother who was already an ordained priest fell ill, Brother Damien asked to take his place and his petition was granted.

He arrived in Honolulu in 1864 from Belgium at age 24 and two months later, was ordained on May 21 at the Cathedral of Our Lady of Peace. It was clear that this was the land God had called him to carry out his mission.

Father Damien was tough, both mentally and physically, and was unafraid of hard work. He not only visited and administered to the sick, but lay pipes for water, rebuilt damaged huts, dug roads and graves, and built coffins. He also helped establish social and moral order in a society that was lawless and degenerate. He loved the rejected and unwanted, and was loved in return.

Far from perfect, Father Damien was stubborn, forceful and opinionated. His superiors and confreres found him difficult to work with. Yet when he contracted leprosy himself, he refused to rest but redoubled his efforts in community projects such as building homes and orphanages.

I am thrilled I got to celebrate his feast day and touch his relic in the Cathedral where he was ordained this past Saturday. When a Christian friend implied she did not quite understand why we Catholics made such a big deal of saints for we are all called to be saints, I replied I am glad I had the communion of saints to draw inspiration from, to emulate and to call upon to intercede.

Saints help me see possibilities when I am myopic. Saints encourage me to walk with single-minded focus (on God alone), even when confused and surrounded by darkness. Saints move me to develop my own unique charisms and spirituality.

And saints like Saint Damien tell me I can be the flawed personality I am and still bring our Creator pleasure by seeking to love Him with all my heart, soul, mind and strength in the lepers of today. Even in hellish circumstances, one can invoke heaven on this earth.

There will be sacrifices to be made, and the costs will be high, but with the help of my saintly brothers and sisters, those who have gone before me, all things are possible, even my bid for holiness and sainthood.

Saint Damien, pray for me.

Aloha

No one said saying goodbye is easy,

But does it have to be so royally tough?

Even the skies are in mourning, weeping,

The Blue Marble Tree seeds wrinkled and rough.

It is a fact. We will all die one day.

Sooner or later, in much the same way.

I cannot arrest what disease will claim,

Or deny the sordid decay of age. 

Yet no one fasts when the groom is present,

So rejoice and be glad, in life engage.

Hold the moment lightly in gratitude 

Let the truths surface, made buoyant in prayer,

Forgive all hurts with a mother's soft laugh

There will be time for tears when he's not there.

Wayfinding

Yesterday I visited the Bishop Museum and watched Wayfinders: Waves, Winds and Stars. I was completely blown away.

The ancient Polynesians explored the oceans in search of new lands navigating using only the stars, sun, moon, winds, ocean swells and sea birds. This was how the first Polynesians travelled thousands of miles to the Hawaiian islands.

This ancient way of navigation was almost lost in Hawaii until in 1976 when the Hōkūle‘a*, a replica of an ancient double-hulled voyaging canoe, set sail from Hawaii to Tahiti, relying only on ancient Polynesian navigation techniques.

Watching the documentary, I was awed at the ability of humans to figure out the night skies, using it as a navigational tool, and their intrepid spirit in setting sail for a land they may not find, thereby perishing in the process.

Gazing at the stars in the planetarium ceiling, I was struck by what a great metaphor for life wayfinding is.

In order to become a wayfinder, one needed to study and memorize a minimum of 200 stars, know where the sun and moon rose and set during the year, as well as understand the swells and currents of the ocean.

Wayfinding is hard work, for it is only in the darkness of night that one navigated best so one must stay awake through the night.

Mastery. Watchfulness. Courage. A developed sensitivity to the elements. All these are requisite for successful sea navigation without modern instrumentation, and for life itself.

If we acknowledge God as the Creator and Almighty, then only by working hard to establish and maintain an intimate relationship with Christ will we be able to understand what are the plans God has mapped out for each of us and thus to be able to follow our bliss.

We need to study our faith and ourselves in order to master our shortcomings; grow in virtue. We cannot afford to slacken. We must stay awake by praying unceasingly.

If we do all these things, then we are better able to know where we should be heading to the point where making the right decision becomes intuitive, and making the better choice becomes second nature.

A wayfinder has a healthy respect and love for the natural world and others. A wayfinder finds ways to connect people and places, shrinking worlds and celebrating differences. A wayfinder does not fear or despair in the dark but discerns meaning in the distant light and uses it to great advantage.

When I grow up I want to be a wayfinder.

* The Hōkūle‘a and Hikianalia will leave Honolulu on May 17 on a worldwide voyage that will span four years. To follow the progress of the voyage, go to www.hokulea.com. 

Better witnessing

I am now in Hawaii for an unplanned but much desired break. It has been wonderful to just do whatever I want to do with no thought for work or my quotidian responsibilities. To focus on my wants and needs and fulfil them accordingly. A dose of hedonism is always good for the soul.

The best part of my trip thus far, having arrived just last Thursday, has been the ability to devote more time to prayer: to go for daily mass and say the rosary daily, May being the Marian month. This has enabled me to enter the season of Easter even more fully, with joy and gratitude. I am grateful for the blessings each day brings and I am able to receive the gifts I am given with much pleasure.

From watching the excellent in-flight movie, The Book Thief, to participating in the Huli Kauwela outside the Waikiki Aquarium (every May 2 except leap years when it's on May 1). From meeting up with old friends, to island music and spam overload (ate spam musubi and spam loco moco) at the Spam Jam yesterday.

I look forward to the unfolding days with eagerness. Will mosey over to the Hawaii Book and Music Festival later this afternoon and catch the Merrie Monarch winners doing their thang.

These past weeks of Easter have brought into focus what it means to be witness. Plus, the recent canonizations of Popes John XXIII and John Paul II last Sunday have inspired me to think more about how I wish to live the rest of my life.

I wish to witness by living more joyously, enriched by and enriching others in the interweaving of relationships and my faith, gifts and talents. To be broken as bread and shared out as food to many, just as Jesus was, and is, every single day in the Eucharist.

To live joyously is to live out my passions, my beliefs with every breath I take. In everything I do, to give the best of myself and my time, and I am not just talking about work or what I like to do here. Excellence, discipline, perseverance and sincerity are hallmarks of passion. Of course, on my own strengths I will fail for I have a tendency to give up and give in to pessimism easily. The good news is I do not have to do all this on my own.

The other key to living joyously is to forgive, not just real but imagined hurts as well (I have so many of these born of my neuroses). One of the upsides of growing older is less energy to hold onto anger. To let the small stuff slide off my back. But there are some big daddys that lurk within and those I attack with the help of the Almighty.

Finally to live joyously, as can be seen in the Acts of the Apostles, is to spread the Good News far and wide. To help the poor, imprisoned, sick, lame and blind. To honour the dignity of the marginalized and suppressed; to fight for justice in a world greedy for power and money. To set wrongs right by living out the Spirit of love in wholesomeness and integrity.

I thank Jesus for the gift of Easter and I rely on Him to help me be a better witness every day. For apart from Him, I am nothing and I can do nothing.