“Don’t swallow the seeds, they are bad for you,” admonished the grown-ups when I was a fruit-munching five year old. “Why?” “Because they’ll start to grow inside you,” they replied.
Wow, you mean an orange or apple tree would grow out of the top of my head and I could pick the fruit off the tree whenever I wanted, wherever I was, and eat them? I was thrilled.
So I kept swallowing the seeds that were small enough, waiting for them to sprout... those I didn’t swallow I would plant in the earth, willing them to new life.
Today when Monsignor Vaz gave a discourse on John 15’s powerful vine imagery at St. Teresa’s Parish Retreat, I was reminded of my childhood fascination with growing things.
We are all called to be fruit-bearing – that would be the sign and binding force that we made our home in the Lord, our true vine.
So that through our obedience, as we remained in His word, we would be pruned, made pure, to bear even more fruit.
The bounty would also prove that we are His disciples. Not the fact that we are baptised, or through our varied declarations of faith.
As a consequence, we would be able to experience complete joy as we ourselves bring joy to Him and to those around us
Mgr. Vaz challenged us. Are we people of joy or are we ruled by other things in our lives?
The idea of obedience is not an appealing one, especially when it seems to get in the way of pleasure and our idea freedom. And so we assert our individual will.
As I have found out after years of stubborn experimentation, being disobedient did bring pleasure, but it also brought with it a sickness of the heart and soul.
I felt blighted. I sought and did not find joy. Instead, I kept chasing after highs that dissipated quickly like wood-smoke, leaving my lungs burning from the lack of oxygen. I was constantly on the run, escaping from my personal demons.
What can be the meaning of my life when I was so full of angst, a prisoner of fears and a slave to my addictions?
It was only when I learned to remain in His love that I was able to consign all the diseased and withered parts of me to the fire.
Obedience set me free of fears, distortions and addictions. I was pruned, cleansed and made new - aglow with an inner tranquility.
Sure, it’s sometimes hard to do the right thing, especially when the wrong thing is so appealing. But the joy of abiding in Him is immeasurable and indescribable.
It is something so deep and mystical that you need to experience it for yourself before you can comprehend what I am saying (if you don't).
What's more, once you’ve experienced it, you won’t ever want to go back to scrounging around for scraps of transient happiness.
The mini me is delighted to discover that the seeds she planted so long ago within and without herself have actually bore fruit.
And I am inspired to continue on the journey to “go and bear fruit, fruit that will last”.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
His healing love
Celebrating birthdays can be hazardous as I found out over the weekend when we got together to celebrate B.’s birthday. She maintained she disliked fuss and woe and betide those who tried to celebrate it for her and with her.
We still did it anyway, albeit in a very private manner, just five chicks with champagne and cake in C.’s condo. It helped that the cake appealed to the child in her. Her “play-cake” as she called it. Seriously, it was a work of art, thanks to Susan from Smiling Orchid.
What is it about birthdays that B. was so violently opposed to? Definitely not the age thing for she still looks youthful. It was the fuss - which encompasses PDAs (that’s public displays of affection) in the non-couply way.
Admittedly, like B., I feel more embarrassed than appreciative when I am at the receiving end as well.
What is it that makes receiving love so difficult? Why is giving so much easier than receiving?
B. and I suffer from the same problem and I think it stems from when we were young. Somehow, we were not affirmed in our love languages* and grew up feeling unloved and even unlovable.
Sure I knew my parents loved me, intellectually, but, somehow, a part of me clamoured for love which I was not getting from them, and that made me feel inadequate as a person, and subsequently, unworthy of love.
It took me a long time before I felt comfortable in my own skin and it was only recently that I could accept that no matter how ugly I felt inside out, there will always be Someone who loves me deeply.
More importantly, that I deserved to be loved in such a life-giving manner.
He has loved me from the point of my conception and has never stopped loving me through all my topsy turvy years.
No other man has made me feel so precious, or so completely cherished. With such a love, I am healed, I am strong - I can be the person I was meant to be.
My birthday wish for B. is that she will continue to experience His healing love and one day enjoy her birthday the way a child enjoys the whole schmaltzy affair – with great relish, revelling in every moment of love and attention. Happy birthday B. XXX
* From Gary Chapman’s The Five Love Languages which enumerates the ways we give and receive love: words of affirmation, quality time, receiving gifts, acts of service and touch. A must-read, especially for couples and parents.
We still did it anyway, albeit in a very private manner, just five chicks with champagne and cake in C.’s condo. It helped that the cake appealed to the child in her. Her “play-cake” as she called it. Seriously, it was a work of art, thanks to Susan from Smiling Orchid.
What is it about birthdays that B. was so violently opposed to? Definitely not the age thing for she still looks youthful. It was the fuss - which encompasses PDAs (that’s public displays of affection) in the non-couply way.
Admittedly, like B., I feel more embarrassed than appreciative when I am at the receiving end as well.
What is it that makes receiving love so difficult? Why is giving so much easier than receiving?
B. and I suffer from the same problem and I think it stems from when we were young. Somehow, we were not affirmed in our love languages* and grew up feeling unloved and even unlovable.
Sure I knew my parents loved me, intellectually, but, somehow, a part of me clamoured for love which I was not getting from them, and that made me feel inadequate as a person, and subsequently, unworthy of love.
It took me a long time before I felt comfortable in my own skin and it was only recently that I could accept that no matter how ugly I felt inside out, there will always be Someone who loves me deeply.
More importantly, that I deserved to be loved in such a life-giving manner.
He has loved me from the point of my conception and has never stopped loving me through all my topsy turvy years.
No other man has made me feel so precious, or so completely cherished. With such a love, I am healed, I am strong - I can be the person I was meant to be.
My birthday wish for B. is that she will continue to experience His healing love and one day enjoy her birthday the way a child enjoys the whole schmaltzy affair – with great relish, revelling in every moment of love and attention. Happy birthday B. XXX
* From Gary Chapman’s The Five Love Languages which enumerates the ways we give and receive love: words of affirmation, quality time, receiving gifts, acts of service and touch. A must-read, especially for couples and parents.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Sacred space
I just finished reading Totto-chan: The Little Girl at the Window by Tetsuko Kuroyanagi that S. lent me about two weeks ago. Published in 1981, this book was a runaway bestseller in Japan and has a timeless, universal appeal. I was absolutely charmed by it.
It’s a book I happen to think that all educators, and parents, should read for it honours an educator par excellence, Sosaku Kobayashi, who was founder and headmaster of Tomoe Gakuen, an alternative elementary school during pre-WWII days, and inspires with Kobayashi’s forward thinking and real love for children.
He sought to affirm every one of his students, devising ways to make them each feel special. “You’re really a good girl, you know,” was a phrase Kobayashi used every time he met the exuberant Totto-chan who was perpetual motion in trouble.
What really gave me cause to pause was this paragraph from the book:
“Having eyes, but not seeing beauty; having ears, but not hearing music; having minds, but not perceiving truths; having hearts that are never moved and therefore never set on fire. These are the things to fear, said the headmaster.”
His students looked forward to school each day for learning was fun. They learnt to see and appreciate the beauty and the miracles in the world around them, and consequently, were taught how to respect nature and fellow human beings.
The ability to find something wondrous and worthwhile even in the insignificant is a skill that every child should be taught, and eventually hone as a discipline. For unless we can appreciate what we have been given, we will not be able to feel gratitude.
And if we are not grateful then we will not be able to fully experience the blessings in our lives, even if we were handed the world on a platter. That would be too, too sad for there is so much in life to be thankful for.
Just the very act of breathing that keeps us alive was a gift from God to Adam as He first breathed life into him. A gift each of us is given when we emerge from our mother’s womb and take that first breath of air into our lungs.
I find that living with a certain mindfulness, a heightened awareness of the world perceived through all my senses, allows me to experience moments sublime in the mill of everyday living.
And when I allow these moments to connect deep inside of me, space is created for the divine to enter.
It is in these spaces that I can once again become a free-spirited child just like Totto-chan, gain respite from worldly concerns, draw strength from unfathomable depths and find inspiration to create.
Cherry blossoms fall,
Sighing softly in the breeze
It’s a book I happen to think that all educators, and parents, should read for it honours an educator par excellence, Sosaku Kobayashi, who was founder and headmaster of Tomoe Gakuen, an alternative elementary school during pre-WWII days, and inspires with Kobayashi’s forward thinking and real love for children.
He sought to affirm every one of his students, devising ways to make them each feel special. “You’re really a good girl, you know,” was a phrase Kobayashi used every time he met the exuberant Totto-chan who was perpetual motion in trouble.
What really gave me cause to pause was this paragraph from the book:
“Having eyes, but not seeing beauty; having ears, but not hearing music; having minds, but not perceiving truths; having hearts that are never moved and therefore never set on fire. These are the things to fear, said the headmaster.”
His students looked forward to school each day for learning was fun. They learnt to see and appreciate the beauty and the miracles in the world around them, and consequently, were taught how to respect nature and fellow human beings.
The ability to find something wondrous and worthwhile even in the insignificant is a skill that every child should be taught, and eventually hone as a discipline. For unless we can appreciate what we have been given, we will not be able to feel gratitude.
And if we are not grateful then we will not be able to fully experience the blessings in our lives, even if we were handed the world on a platter. That would be too, too sad for there is so much in life to be thankful for.
Just the very act of breathing that keeps us alive was a gift from God to Adam as He first breathed life into him. A gift each of us is given when we emerge from our mother’s womb and take that first breath of air into our lungs.
I find that living with a certain mindfulness, a heightened awareness of the world perceived through all my senses, allows me to experience moments sublime in the mill of everyday living.
And when I allow these moments to connect deep inside of me, space is created for the divine to enter.
It is in these spaces that I can once again become a free-spirited child just like Totto-chan, gain respite from worldly concerns, draw strength from unfathomable depths and find inspiration to create.
Cherry blossoms fall,
Sighing softly in the breeze
A sweet song of joy
Saturday, July 07, 2007
High fidelity
We were talking about doing the right thing by following God’s ways. I was trying to explain to C. how obedience to the “rules” enriched my life, protected me and allowed me to be free.
She went, “That’s conditioning.” I was stung initially for the implication behind that statement was that I was no longer a thinking, rational being.
A couple of days later, I caught Selma Hayek in a TV interview and she spoke against religion as she saw religion as an institution that hampers her relationship with God, given all its rules. She called it programming and said that religion caused one to sacrifice individuality and creativity.
This perception that religion equals rules, rules that are archaic, impractical and reduce one’s quality of life by curtailing freedom is only too prevalent.
I have to admit I used to subscribe to this view not too long ago, and even felt that Church teachings were out-moded and existed to create guilt.
We live in a world where progress, defined by technological and scientific advances, is seen as the height of desirability. Tradition, the old ways, are no longer revered but ridiculed.
Freedom, love and happiness are words that readily trip off the lips to justify adultery, theft, cheating, oppression, abuse, even murder.
If we really took the time to seek, understand and experience what God’s love is all about, we would see the wisdom behind the rules.
The Catholic Church’s teachings are not based on esoteric, obscure reasoning but founded on natural law. Very practical, infused with huge doses of common sense.
Unfortunately, through poorly taught catechism and inept promulgation of its beliefs, strange and distorted views of Catholicism abound.
Plus, it is always easier to believe what the media and the world around us tell us about how to pursue happiness and find it.
Yes, fidelity does imply obedience and sacrifice. At times, the subsuming of one’s desires. But when that fidelity is a reciprocity of love (and not just duty), it takes on a deeper and richer tone.
And with the unfolding of time, we will eventually get to hear the symphony God is composing through our lives if we allow Him to be the master composer.
When I get weary of swimming upstream against the flow of popular convention, I find strength reflecting on the life of Dorothy Day who lived the major part of the 1900s.
Her choices in life would seem mad to most people.
Giving up a lucrative career as a writer to become a social activist who brought hope and acceptance to the masses by providing food and shelter though her houses of hospitality.
Shunning the values of her generation upon conversion to Catholicism even though she had earlier typified the modern, independent woman of the 20s who indulged in the free-sex-and-drugs lifestyle.
Choosing God and letting go of the man she loved and called “husband” to walk singly through life, raising her daughter on her own.
She embraced the Church’s teachings wholeheartedly, managing to translate her radical social values within the institutional framework and give herself over to loving in such extraordinary ways.
Her unique brand of spirituality included her love of Scripture, solidarity with the poor, frequent works of mercy, prophetic witness through her writings, pacifism, gratitude to God and regular celebration of the sacraments.
Below is an excerpt of the sermon delivered by Fr. John Hugo at her memorial mass:
"Never enough! The other saying frequently quoted by Dorothy I had borrowed from St. Augustine: "He who says he has done enough has already perished." The fullness of love is not attainable all at once, but is rather a life-time goal requiring continual growth. The saint's words are a reminder that one may not falter in the ascent of the mount of love. And Dorothy was not satisfied with the lowest degree of love. She desired to follow her Master, who had said, "Love one another as I have loved you." That is, unto death."
Fidelity of the highest order: She died penniless in 1980, having lived the fullest expression of her love for Christ in her fully lived life (which included being thrown into jail at the ripe old age of 75 for being in a banned picket line for farm workers).
If being conditioned or programmed means living a life as colourful and rich in meaning as Dorothy’s, bring it on.
She went, “That’s conditioning.” I was stung initially for the implication behind that statement was that I was no longer a thinking, rational being.
A couple of days later, I caught Selma Hayek in a TV interview and she spoke against religion as she saw religion as an institution that hampers her relationship with God, given all its rules. She called it programming and said that religion caused one to sacrifice individuality and creativity.
This perception that religion equals rules, rules that are archaic, impractical and reduce one’s quality of life by curtailing freedom is only too prevalent.
I have to admit I used to subscribe to this view not too long ago, and even felt that Church teachings were out-moded and existed to create guilt.
We live in a world where progress, defined by technological and scientific advances, is seen as the height of desirability. Tradition, the old ways, are no longer revered but ridiculed.
Freedom, love and happiness are words that readily trip off the lips to justify adultery, theft, cheating, oppression, abuse, even murder.
If we really took the time to seek, understand and experience what God’s love is all about, we would see the wisdom behind the rules.
The Catholic Church’s teachings are not based on esoteric, obscure reasoning but founded on natural law. Very practical, infused with huge doses of common sense.
Unfortunately, through poorly taught catechism and inept promulgation of its beliefs, strange and distorted views of Catholicism abound.
Plus, it is always easier to believe what the media and the world around us tell us about how to pursue happiness and find it.
Yes, fidelity does imply obedience and sacrifice. At times, the subsuming of one’s desires. But when that fidelity is a reciprocity of love (and not just duty), it takes on a deeper and richer tone.
And with the unfolding of time, we will eventually get to hear the symphony God is composing through our lives if we allow Him to be the master composer.
When I get weary of swimming upstream against the flow of popular convention, I find strength reflecting on the life of Dorothy Day who lived the major part of the 1900s.
Her choices in life would seem mad to most people.
Giving up a lucrative career as a writer to become a social activist who brought hope and acceptance to the masses by providing food and shelter though her houses of hospitality.
Shunning the values of her generation upon conversion to Catholicism even though she had earlier typified the modern, independent woman of the 20s who indulged in the free-sex-and-drugs lifestyle.
Choosing God and letting go of the man she loved and called “husband” to walk singly through life, raising her daughter on her own.
She embraced the Church’s teachings wholeheartedly, managing to translate her radical social values within the institutional framework and give herself over to loving in such extraordinary ways.
Her unique brand of spirituality included her love of Scripture, solidarity with the poor, frequent works of mercy, prophetic witness through her writings, pacifism, gratitude to God and regular celebration of the sacraments.
Below is an excerpt of the sermon delivered by Fr. John Hugo at her memorial mass:
"Never enough! The other saying frequently quoted by Dorothy I had borrowed from St. Augustine: "He who says he has done enough has already perished." The fullness of love is not attainable all at once, but is rather a life-time goal requiring continual growth. The saint's words are a reminder that one may not falter in the ascent of the mount of love. And Dorothy was not satisfied with the lowest degree of love. She desired to follow her Master, who had said, "Love one another as I have loved you." That is, unto death."
Fidelity of the highest order: She died penniless in 1980, having lived the fullest expression of her love for Christ in her fully lived life (which included being thrown into jail at the ripe old age of 75 for being in a banned picket line for farm workers).
If being conditioned or programmed means living a life as colourful and rich in meaning as Dorothy’s, bring it on.
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Building spiritual muscle
Answering the call “Follow me!” is not something one does frivolously, without a thought.
Jesus himself warns it will not be easy: “No one who puts a hand to the plough and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” And yet, many were inspired to follow Him.
Some, like Peter and Paul, even gave their lives to share the salvific love of Jesus with others: Peter to Jews and Paul to Gentiles. Thus, the seeds of Christianity sprouted and grew.
It always makes me laugh to read about Peter – his impulsive, rough-and-ready ways, his earthy humanity. It gives me hope that a key founder of the Church betrayed Jesus three times after vowing to give his life for Him.
Or that someone like Paul, a textbook Pharisee who was killing Christians, could be transformed into a person who through his incredibly intimate relationship with the resurrected Christ would go on to convert thousands through his tireless zeal and deep love for God.
Last Thursday the W2W ministry gathered to say goodbye to one of its sisters who will be moving away with her husband and young family.
Stephanie has always inspired with her active faith and her willingness to say yes to Jesus. Knowing what would be demanded of her this July as she leaves the shores she grew up on, she set about strengthening the already sturdy foundations of her faith.
As a result, the regular spiritual workouts she has undergone in the last six months have given her a rock-hard, yet resilient inner strength. She’s ready to take on the world!
As we commented on the difference, she had this to say, “It wasn’t easy. It may seem that way, but it wasn’t.”
Coming to terms with our issues, our failings, our weaknesses, our woundedness, all the unloved, unlovely bits of us is a task few wish to undertake. It requires great courage and effort to face the bogey men tap-dancing in our closet.
Unless we can name the unfulfilled, broken parts of our self, work on them and allow healing to take place, they will always have power over us, and hinder our ability to experience life fully.
Yep, it’s hard work. Ah, but we do have a secret weapon. That little thing called grace.
Grace is what restored Paul’s sight physically and spiritually, enabling him to become one of Christ’s most ardent supporters.
Grace is what allowed Peter to transform from a scared mouse into a fearless, intrepid disciple who founded the Church in Rome.
Grace is the FDA-approved, designer steroid.
As past hurts and wounds heal, as a chiselled and taut spirituality replaces a flabby one, we find it easier to fight the good fight, finish the race while keeping the faith.
Start training today!
Jesus himself warns it will not be easy: “No one who puts a hand to the plough and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” And yet, many were inspired to follow Him.
Some, like Peter and Paul, even gave their lives to share the salvific love of Jesus with others: Peter to Jews and Paul to Gentiles. Thus, the seeds of Christianity sprouted and grew.
It always makes me laugh to read about Peter – his impulsive, rough-and-ready ways, his earthy humanity. It gives me hope that a key founder of the Church betrayed Jesus three times after vowing to give his life for Him.
Or that someone like Paul, a textbook Pharisee who was killing Christians, could be transformed into a person who through his incredibly intimate relationship with the resurrected Christ would go on to convert thousands through his tireless zeal and deep love for God.
Last Thursday the W2W ministry gathered to say goodbye to one of its sisters who will be moving away with her husband and young family.
Stephanie has always inspired with her active faith and her willingness to say yes to Jesus. Knowing what would be demanded of her this July as she leaves the shores she grew up on, she set about strengthening the already sturdy foundations of her faith.
As a result, the regular spiritual workouts she has undergone in the last six months have given her a rock-hard, yet resilient inner strength. She’s ready to take on the world!
As we commented on the difference, she had this to say, “It wasn’t easy. It may seem that way, but it wasn’t.”
Coming to terms with our issues, our failings, our weaknesses, our woundedness, all the unloved, unlovely bits of us is a task few wish to undertake. It requires great courage and effort to face the bogey men tap-dancing in our closet.
Unless we can name the unfulfilled, broken parts of our self, work on them and allow healing to take place, they will always have power over us, and hinder our ability to experience life fully.
Yep, it’s hard work. Ah, but we do have a secret weapon. That little thing called grace.
Grace is what restored Paul’s sight physically and spiritually, enabling him to become one of Christ’s most ardent supporters.
Grace is what allowed Peter to transform from a scared mouse into a fearless, intrepid disciple who founded the Church in Rome.
Grace is the FDA-approved, designer steroid.
As past hurts and wounds heal, as a chiselled and taut spirituality replaces a flabby one, we find it easier to fight the good fight, finish the race while keeping the faith.
Start training today!
Monday, June 25, 2007
Speaking the truth
Last Friday I was invited to dinner by the Men to Men Ministry. I had not met the group before so I looked forward to getting to know them. I had a great time - it was a fun evening of good food, wine and conversation and I was struck by their easy camaraderie and their commitment to their ministry.
So what’s the secret? I think part of the reason why the men are so strongly committed is due, in part, to the leadership. They joked about how if they skipped too many meetings, they would be invited to a private breakfast tete a tete with Edwyn who leads the group.
We live in a world ruled by political correctness, where often we refrain from “correcting” a wrong, because we are so concerned about infringing the rights of others and offending them. More so if we are Christian. It’s not the done thing. We must make nice all the time. Accept people for who they are.
Yes, we must love the sinner, but we need not accept the sin. We forget that Jesus overturned the tables of the money lenders in the temple. That He was never afraid of telling the truth, motivated by His deep love for humanity.
Although we are adults and should know the difference between right and wrong, we do sometimes need the encouragement and support of our loved ones to steer us back onto the right path, especially if we veer off. That’s where family and friends who love us come in.
I am especially grateful for the forthrightness of E., who has been one of my spiritual guides these past years. She has never been afraid of telling it like it is, unpalatable as her words may have been to my ears at the time. Invariably I would follow her advice (after wrestling with it for a while) for I knew she was motivated by a spirit of love, and wisdom.
So what if she came across like a heavy-handed parent at times? I knew she was right, even if at the time I didn’t fully understand why, for I respected her authority – an authority that came from her sustained, intimate relationship with the Trinity. I am glad, in retrospect, that I allowed her words to guide me for I have gained much, despite "losing" much initially.
There are certain truths in the world we cannot sugar-coat in relativism. Black is black and will never be white even if we argue till we are blue in the face about it. So it's important not to be afraid of treading on toes in the effort to live His way, His truth and His life.
As St. Paul would say, “Never grow tired of doing what is right.” Speak the truth in love.
So what’s the secret? I think part of the reason why the men are so strongly committed is due, in part, to the leadership. They joked about how if they skipped too many meetings, they would be invited to a private breakfast tete a tete with Edwyn who leads the group.
We live in a world ruled by political correctness, where often we refrain from “correcting” a wrong, because we are so concerned about infringing the rights of others and offending them. More so if we are Christian. It’s not the done thing. We must make nice all the time. Accept people for who they are.
Yes, we must love the sinner, but we need not accept the sin. We forget that Jesus overturned the tables of the money lenders in the temple. That He was never afraid of telling the truth, motivated by His deep love for humanity.
Although we are adults and should know the difference between right and wrong, we do sometimes need the encouragement and support of our loved ones to steer us back onto the right path, especially if we veer off. That’s where family and friends who love us come in.
I am especially grateful for the forthrightness of E., who has been one of my spiritual guides these past years. She has never been afraid of telling it like it is, unpalatable as her words may have been to my ears at the time. Invariably I would follow her advice (after wrestling with it for a while) for I knew she was motivated by a spirit of love, and wisdom.
So what if she came across like a heavy-handed parent at times? I knew she was right, even if at the time I didn’t fully understand why, for I respected her authority – an authority that came from her sustained, intimate relationship with the Trinity. I am glad, in retrospect, that I allowed her words to guide me for I have gained much, despite "losing" much initially.
There are certain truths in the world we cannot sugar-coat in relativism. Black is black and will never be white even if we argue till we are blue in the face about it. So it's important not to be afraid of treading on toes in the effort to live His way, His truth and His life.
As St. Paul would say, “Never grow tired of doing what is right.” Speak the truth in love.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Conversion stories
A couple of weeks ago, B. rang me and told me she had bumped into my cousin G. and they ended up sharing their conversion stories with each other over dinner. I never cease to marvel at how lives are transformed diametrically when we each meet and connect with the One who brings us the calibre of happiness we look for all our lives and never quite find in things human-made.Raniero Cantalamessa uses the parable Jesus told of the hidden treasure to describe conversion: "The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field; a man finds it and hides it again, then he goes, full of joy, and sells all he has and buys the field."
It is only when the man finds the treasure that he now has “the strength and the joy to sell all” and this conversion, Fr. Cantalamessa goes on to say, “is the way to happiness and a full life. It is not something painful, but the greatest joy. It is the discovery of the hidden treasure and the pearl of great price.”
Having experienced it myself, I concur with what he says for only such transcendent joy can effect and sustain the necessary process of selling all, which takes time (a whole lifetime, in fact, for conversion is not a one-shot deal but a lifelong process).
While conversion isn’t something painful per se, it does involve pain: the pain of letting go, giving up, dying to self, leaving behind the vestiges of one’s former way of life. Tis not easy… but I would not change a step I’ve travelled on the narrow path. Nor do I wish to switch paths or walk back even when temptation allures so charmingly from time to time.
For it was only when I said goodbye to the final enduring bits of my “worldly” life two years ago that I found the freedom to move light years ahead and find my identity, my worth and my purpose, and consequently, the sense of security and well-being a child finds in her mother’s loving arms.
Like the woman with the alabaster flask in Matthew’s gospel, knowing that my many sins are forgiven has enabled me to be (and feel) loved wholly, and to love wholeheartedly in return.
In a world where people search so desperately for love, they need only look inward into the eyes of the Father to find the hidden treasure.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
By His blood
Sometimes I ponder how much I would give up, how far I would go to defend my love for Jesus. Would I be able to give up my life if called upon to do so? Or would I wimp out and deny His name, like Peter did, not once, but thrice.
Even now, in a social setting of "believers" and "non-believers", I let "blasphemous" remarks go, forgoing the risk of being labelled Jesus freak or, heaven forbid, totally uncool.
"Don't rock the boat. Don't make everyone uncomfortable." I rationalise my limp responses or silence. "If I give an honest opinion, I will come across as a narrow-minded Christian and turn people off Christianity, so it's better to let it slide."
Please show me how I can change the world when I lack the requisite courage to bear witness in the world? Especially since I am so comfortable remaining within the enclave of like-minded people.
Instead of demarcating the world into "them and us", to really be like Jesus, I must go forth and sit with "sinners". Break bread with them. Get to know them and to love them. Accept them for who they are. Recognize the seed of goodness within each person I meet and hopefully, by reflecting the love of Jesus, make the seed grow through each encounter.
I've been reading about the recent slaying of Fr. Ragheed Aziz Ganni and three deacons, shot and killed in Mosul, Iraq, last Sunday after Mass. Fr. Ragheed chose to return to his home country in 2003 upon completion of his studies in Rome, knowing he was going back, literally, to a war zone, and an eventual death sentence.
The description of severe and constant persecution, the real fear of dying for one's faith every single day is just mind-boggling to me - who sits in air-conditioned comfort when I attend mass, secure in the knowledge I am safe from violence. No bullets whizzing through church windows or celebrating mass in bombed-out ruins.
Out of love for his people, Fr. Ragheed made the ultimate sacrifice. I find his courage, strength and tireless zeal inspiring. And I pray that this sacrifice will not spawn more hatred and violence, but will instead spur each of us to follow his example of fidelity and bring the message of hope and love to all we meet. Every single day.
"Today I have died to self." Words he uttered to a good friend on the day of his ordination.
May I be given a small measure of the grace given to Fr. Ragheed to die to self and live in Christ, Christ who died for us so willingly out of love. A sacrifice I remember at every Eucharistic celebration, and in particular today, when I tasted His life-giving blood in the wine.
Even now, in a social setting of "believers" and "non-believers", I let "blasphemous" remarks go, forgoing the risk of being labelled Jesus freak or, heaven forbid, totally uncool.
"Don't rock the boat. Don't make everyone uncomfortable." I rationalise my limp responses or silence. "If I give an honest opinion, I will come across as a narrow-minded Christian and turn people off Christianity, so it's better to let it slide."
Please show me how I can change the world when I lack the requisite courage to bear witness in the world? Especially since I am so comfortable remaining within the enclave of like-minded people.
Instead of demarcating the world into "them and us", to really be like Jesus, I must go forth and sit with "sinners". Break bread with them. Get to know them and to love them. Accept them for who they are. Recognize the seed of goodness within each person I meet and hopefully, by reflecting the love of Jesus, make the seed grow through each encounter.
I've been reading about the recent slaying of Fr. Ragheed Aziz Ganni and three deacons, shot and killed in Mosul, Iraq, last Sunday after Mass. Fr. Ragheed chose to return to his home country in 2003 upon completion of his studies in Rome, knowing he was going back, literally, to a war zone, and an eventual death sentence.
The description of severe and constant persecution, the real fear of dying for one's faith every single day is just mind-boggling to me - who sits in air-conditioned comfort when I attend mass, secure in the knowledge I am safe from violence. No bullets whizzing through church windows or celebrating mass in bombed-out ruins.
Out of love for his people, Fr. Ragheed made the ultimate sacrifice. I find his courage, strength and tireless zeal inspiring. And I pray that this sacrifice will not spawn more hatred and violence, but will instead spur each of us to follow his example of fidelity and bring the message of hope and love to all we meet. Every single day.
"Today I have died to self." Words he uttered to a good friend on the day of his ordination.
May I be given a small measure of the grace given to Fr. Ragheed to die to self and live in Christ, Christ who died for us so willingly out of love. A sacrifice I remember at every Eucharistic celebration, and in particular today, when I tasted His life-giving blood in the wine.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Spirited charisms
When I was five, I knew the Holy Spirit as the Holy Ghost. I saw Him as one of my guardian angels, friendly like Casper, who would play with me and keep me safe. Then He became the Holy Spirit and somehow, by virtue of the name change and my growing up, faded into invisibility.
God was my distant father, loving but stern, and Jesus was some bygone super-hero who performed miracles. To be admired, but from a distance. Father, Son and Holy Spirit, like relatives who lived in another country. We were bonded in a unique way, but we never saw each other much.
Things changed the day, as B. would put it, I got zapped. Big time. The charismatics will say I met Jesus. I like to describe it as the day I fell in love with the love of my life.
The music played and the angels sang as the sun came out from behind the clouds and shone its deliciously warm, ambient rays on a magnificent rainbow in the sky.
Sure, it didn't happen in a flash, more like a diver slowly surfacing after a deep dive, but it was nonetheless dramatic. And life-changing.
God became my compassionate father who forgave me all my sins.
Jesus became heroically human and real to me and began performing miracles in my life.
The Holy Spirit blew away the cobwebs distorting my vision, refreshed my parched, shrivelled soul and lit a fire within.
From that point onwards, there was no turning back.
I have since gotten to know the tenets of Catholicism well. I was astounded to discover how rich and complex in flavours and textures my religion was, much like my favourite hazelnut chocolate torte, and just as rewarding.
I continue to be amazed at how alive and vibrant my relationship with my Triune God can be.
As I mature in my faith journey, I become more aware of my mission in life: sharing His love with others. Simple, but not exactly easy to accomplish for every act of giving involves exposing myself to hostility and rejection, while I cannot, must not, expect anything in return.
What does make it easy is His bountiful love – not only the fruit, but the gifts of the Holy Spirit. Charisms, or what Pope John Paul II calls extraordinary gifts that are not necessarily miraculous in nature, but are given to each of us to help us “in the service of others and the welfare of the Church”, bringing Christ’s love to the world.
These special graces are unique to each person and come in diverse and multiple forms such as wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety and fear of God, to name a few. (By the way, the gift of tongues is not a charism for as Fr. Robert Faricy put it, “Any idiot can babble in tongues,” and it is a gift of contemplative prayer more for self-sanctification.)
Of course we must want the gifts and claim them, be grateful for them as they are bestowed, and treasure them by sharing them, for they are not meant for self-edification or sanctification.
This past Pentecost, I asked for a renewal of Spirit to nourish my faith. Ever generous, Father, Son and Holy Spirit responded. Now it’s up to me to live up to and live out my baptismal promises with the charisms He has given me.
God was my distant father, loving but stern, and Jesus was some bygone super-hero who performed miracles. To be admired, but from a distance. Father, Son and Holy Spirit, like relatives who lived in another country. We were bonded in a unique way, but we never saw each other much.
Things changed the day, as B. would put it, I got zapped. Big time. The charismatics will say I met Jesus. I like to describe it as the day I fell in love with the love of my life.
The music played and the angels sang as the sun came out from behind the clouds and shone its deliciously warm, ambient rays on a magnificent rainbow in the sky.
Sure, it didn't happen in a flash, more like a diver slowly surfacing after a deep dive, but it was nonetheless dramatic. And life-changing.
God became my compassionate father who forgave me all my sins.
Jesus became heroically human and real to me and began performing miracles in my life.
The Holy Spirit blew away the cobwebs distorting my vision, refreshed my parched, shrivelled soul and lit a fire within.
From that point onwards, there was no turning back.
I have since gotten to know the tenets of Catholicism well. I was astounded to discover how rich and complex in flavours and textures my religion was, much like my favourite hazelnut chocolate torte, and just as rewarding.
I continue to be amazed at how alive and vibrant my relationship with my Triune God can be.
As I mature in my faith journey, I become more aware of my mission in life: sharing His love with others. Simple, but not exactly easy to accomplish for every act of giving involves exposing myself to hostility and rejection, while I cannot, must not, expect anything in return.
What does make it easy is His bountiful love – not only the fruit, but the gifts of the Holy Spirit. Charisms, or what Pope John Paul II calls extraordinary gifts that are not necessarily miraculous in nature, but are given to each of us to help us “in the service of others and the welfare of the Church”, bringing Christ’s love to the world.
These special graces are unique to each person and come in diverse and multiple forms such as wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety and fear of God, to name a few. (By the way, the gift of tongues is not a charism for as Fr. Robert Faricy put it, “Any idiot can babble in tongues,” and it is a gift of contemplative prayer more for self-sanctification.)
Of course we must want the gifts and claim them, be grateful for them as they are bestowed, and treasure them by sharing them, for they are not meant for self-edification or sanctification.
This past Pentecost, I asked for a renewal of Spirit to nourish my faith. Ever generous, Father, Son and Holy Spirit responded. Now it’s up to me to live up to and live out my baptismal promises with the charisms He has given me.
Monday, May 28, 2007
In the Spirit
It’s been a power-packed weekend – filled with activity and much to digest intellectually and spiritually. I attended a two-day seminar on God by Jesuit Adrian Danker who teaches philosophy of religion at Ateneo University in the Philippines. We explored encountering God on the vertical as well as the horizontal axis and locating the point of intersection. I was bombarded with new concepts, novel approaches and perspectives to life. And yet, within the densely rich material, many of my inner convictions were confirmed and affirmed… and I arrived at the conclusion that there is so MUCH MORE to learn.
What an a-ha moment for my fried brain cells. How am I supposed to absorb all this and apply it to life in a way that is coherent to both myself and those around me?
A question. Excellent.
I learned that questions are good for they force us to step back and reflect. Reconstruct and re-frame our understanding of the world around us and what God means in our worlds, our lives. Engage in what St. Anselm calls a faith-seeking understanding, instead of accepting “truths” blindly. In this way, we learn to be open, to listen and recognize the goodness that is in each person around us, while remaining true to our moral compass, retaining the integrity within a constantly evolving individual identity.
Especially appealing was Paul Ricoeur’s first and second naivete. The first naivete is falling in love the first time. The sun shines brighter and bird song sounds sweeter. However, over time, and with familiarity, we become jaded. Rather than choose the downhill slide into boredom or apathy, we can choose to step back and look at things in a new light. Second naivete occurs when we fall in love again with the same person.
This typifies my relationship with the Trinity. I fall in love again each time I step back and reflect, only to discover some fascinating new facet of our relationship. I marvel at how little I know the more I know. I pray I will never lose the mysterium tremendum fascinosum*, mystery awe fascination, that is present in every encounter with the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
After feeding the mind, it was time to feed the spirit. So off to the Pentecost rally at Holy Spirit Church where I encountered Fr. Robert Faricy, yet another Jesuit, who has been active in the Catholic Charismatic Renewal since the early days. What a spirited and spirit-full evening. I could almost imagine myself in the upper room with the apostles as tongues of fire appeared on the tops of every head present.
While my human vision will always be flawed, my understanding limited, I can count on the infinite wisdom, and love, of the Spirit to guide me through life.
*Rudolf Otto’s description of a religious encounter with the Holy.
What an a-ha moment for my fried brain cells. How am I supposed to absorb all this and apply it to life in a way that is coherent to both myself and those around me?
A question. Excellent.
I learned that questions are good for they force us to step back and reflect. Reconstruct and re-frame our understanding of the world around us and what God means in our worlds, our lives. Engage in what St. Anselm calls a faith-seeking understanding, instead of accepting “truths” blindly. In this way, we learn to be open, to listen and recognize the goodness that is in each person around us, while remaining true to our moral compass, retaining the integrity within a constantly evolving individual identity.
Especially appealing was Paul Ricoeur’s first and second naivete. The first naivete is falling in love the first time. The sun shines brighter and bird song sounds sweeter. However, over time, and with familiarity, we become jaded. Rather than choose the downhill slide into boredom or apathy, we can choose to step back and look at things in a new light. Second naivete occurs when we fall in love again with the same person.
This typifies my relationship with the Trinity. I fall in love again each time I step back and reflect, only to discover some fascinating new facet of our relationship. I marvel at how little I know the more I know. I pray I will never lose the mysterium tremendum fascinosum*, mystery awe fascination, that is present in every encounter with the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
After feeding the mind, it was time to feed the spirit. So off to the Pentecost rally at Holy Spirit Church where I encountered Fr. Robert Faricy, yet another Jesuit, who has been active in the Catholic Charismatic Renewal since the early days. What a spirited and spirit-full evening. I could almost imagine myself in the upper room with the apostles as tongues of fire appeared on the tops of every head present.
While my human vision will always be flawed, my understanding limited, I can count on the infinite wisdom, and love, of the Spirit to guide me through life.
*Rudolf Otto’s description of a religious encounter with the Holy.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Mother's Day
Bleeding Heart or Mary's HeartThe month of May has been designated the Marian month by Pope Benedict XVI as Mary is the “Mother who accompanies the community of disciples united in prayer in expectation of the Holy Spirit”. It is fitting for Pentecost falls within May this year, as does Mother’s Day which is the second Sunday of May.
When I look at my mother, I see a lot of what I imagine Mother Mary to be like: faithful, patient, courageous, persevering, gentle, compassionate and full of deep inner strength. Both are women I love dearly and seek to emulate for they represent the full-blown maturity of womanhood, a maturity refined by suffering and steeped in wisdom. Undefeated by darkness, they exude a luminous joy that touches all who come into contact with them.
Mum just underwent her second cataract operation last week. I am glad things went smoothly and she is recovering nicely. As she is 74, I was a little apprehensive on the day of the operation and had activated an international prayer network. (Thanks to all who prayed for the success of the operation. Much appreciated.)
Any visit to the hospital reminds me of the fragility of life. And I am increasingly mindful of the time that we have left together and know how blessed I am to have her as my constant companion. Eating, laughing, talking, living together in harmony, we bear witness to each other’s joys and struggles in the humdrum rhythm of days measured out in talk shows and K-dramas. Likewise, Mother Mary accompanies me as I traverse the peaks and valleys. I draw inspiration from her fiat*, especially when I hit a dark and torturous valley.
So do I need a day specially set aside to thank them for who they are and what they have brought to my life? No. Instead, I thank them every day, in numerous small ways, by reflecting the love and joy of the Lord I see shining in their eyes.
* "I am the handmaid of the Lord, be it done unto me according to Thy word." Luke 1:38
Monday, May 07, 2007
Contemplation Ignatian
A crowd of people gathered two Sundays ago at St. Teresa's to begin a week of guided prayer. The taster afternoon took those who sacrificed their Sunday afternoon naps (namely me) through two common methods of praying with Scripture: lectio divina* and Ignatian comtemplation**. While I am somewhat familiar with lectio, I have not really practised Ignatian contemplation much, so I was quite keen to try.
Plus, the week would help get me back on track with a more structured prayer time.
Consequently, I met with my personal prayer guide Peter*** who helped facilitate and direct my efforts at our daily meetings. I was literally blown away by how powerful Ignatian contemplation could be.
By giving the Lord time and space to enter my life this way, His presence took on an extraordinary dimension of reality. I could feel the warm tenderness of His love, witness the power of His actions, hear the healing tones of His voice, inhale the sweetness of life’s sufferings and taste the joy of communion. The answers I was seeking gained ineffable clarity. The hurts I was experiencing evaporated like smoke. The unrest in my heart transposed into a sense of deep, inner peace.
The week ended with a closing last Saturday afternoon and I am inspired to incorporate the Ignatian way into my prayer time from now on. My other take-away from the week of guided prayer is the importance of staying close to Him through prayer. Giving us, JC and myself, the opportunity to engage in deep, meaningful conversations. Such a simple formula for peace of mind and a true sense of self. One I must make effort to remember and put into practice. As St. Paul reminded the Colossians:
"…continue faithful on a sure and firm foundation and do not allow yourself to be shaken from the hope you gained when you heard the gospel…”
* Lectio divina means sacred reading and is a four-step method of praying Scripture where you read (lectio), reflect (meditatio), respond (oratio) and rest (contemplatio) in the Word of God to discern why and how a particular passage of Scripture is pertinent to your life and to call forth a response from you.
** Practised by St. Ignatius of Loyola, this form of contemplative prayer engages all five senses as you situate yourself in the presence of God in the passage and use your imagination to make the scene come alive and real during the allotted time of prayer.
*** Peter is part of Sojourners’ Companions, a group of men and women who will journey with pilgrims on a week of guided prayer. For more on them: www.catholic.org.sg/sojourners
Plus, the week would help get me back on track with a more structured prayer time.
Consequently, I met with my personal prayer guide Peter*** who helped facilitate and direct my efforts at our daily meetings. I was literally blown away by how powerful Ignatian contemplation could be.
By giving the Lord time and space to enter my life this way, His presence took on an extraordinary dimension of reality. I could feel the warm tenderness of His love, witness the power of His actions, hear the healing tones of His voice, inhale the sweetness of life’s sufferings and taste the joy of communion. The answers I was seeking gained ineffable clarity. The hurts I was experiencing evaporated like smoke. The unrest in my heart transposed into a sense of deep, inner peace.
The week ended with a closing last Saturday afternoon and I am inspired to incorporate the Ignatian way into my prayer time from now on. My other take-away from the week of guided prayer is the importance of staying close to Him through prayer. Giving us, JC and myself, the opportunity to engage in deep, meaningful conversations. Such a simple formula for peace of mind and a true sense of self. One I must make effort to remember and put into practice. As St. Paul reminded the Colossians:
"…continue faithful on a sure and firm foundation and do not allow yourself to be shaken from the hope you gained when you heard the gospel…”
* Lectio divina means sacred reading and is a four-step method of praying Scripture where you read (lectio), reflect (meditatio), respond (oratio) and rest (contemplatio) in the Word of God to discern why and how a particular passage of Scripture is pertinent to your life and to call forth a response from you.
** Practised by St. Ignatius of Loyola, this form of contemplative prayer engages all five senses as you situate yourself in the presence of God in the passage and use your imagination to make the scene come alive and real during the allotted time of prayer.
*** Peter is part of Sojourners’ Companions, a group of men and women who will journey with pilgrims on a week of guided prayer. For more on them: www.catholic.org.sg/sojourners
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Alleluia people
Since returning from Taiwan, I’ve been in a little bit of a slump, which I am only now slowly emerging from. I stopped my usual bedtime practice of meditating on the readings of the day and writing in my prayer journal. I withdrew into myself voluntarily, a self-imposed trek through the desert, plodding through hours of mindless TV.It’s a combination of physical and emotional exhaustion, and trying to find my rhythm again, the energy required to start on the next project of the year (there are so many!!!). I was also feeling a little disheartened for when I see those whom I love dearly still unable to discover the true meaning of His love, I get sad and feel really useless for I am unable to help them.
Some are prisoners of their own fears. Others escape through their addiction of choice. Perpetually angry. Bitter. Lonely. Vulnerable. Frazzled by life and not doing well at all. Searching desperately for love in ways not good for their health. So much brokenness. So much pain. It’s depressing to see them like this. I sometimes feel like shaking them, “There is a better way – life can be good even when it sucks; especially when it sucks. You have the ability to change your life”.
Something A. said during a recent Bible meeting struck me as a powerful concept. She said we are Alleluia* people. She’s right. Especially in this Easter season, it is fitting to be a person who gives thanks with great joy and a sense of triumph that the powers of darkness have been overcome. Through the ultimate act of love that inspires with its depth of generosity. Because of that, we now have the promise of eternal life. It’s amazingly awesome even if we grasp only half of what this means. And yet this is a truth increasingly forgotten, discounted, misunderstood, overlooked or rejected.
I know I cannot save the world. Not immediately at least. Maybe in another seven years…
I do know I can be an Alleluia person and give thanks for the rainbows that occur in my life every day, whether it rains or not. And hopefully, radiate the joy and pleasure I experience and touch those around me with that saving grace.
* In Hebrew, Halleluyah means praise God.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Easter special
It was a struggle, this Lenten season, for I was not able to observe the conventions of fasting, penance and alms-giving in my usual manner. I wanted to offer up something more meaningful, and yet, did not seem to have the energy or time to do so. It was only after I had a chat with my SD that I felt I did give something of value this season. Fr. A. said that the Lord would ask for something different each Lent and as long as I followed His lead, it would not be a washout. With that validation, I emerged from our meeting with relief and a newfound sense of purpose.Lately I find that I am challenged to go beyond the conservative boundaries of my beliefs and take the spirit of loving God with all my heart, with all my soul, with all my mind and with all my strength to new depths. Now that I know how to colour within the lines, I am prodded to define the picture with bold, fresh strokes which I then embellish with colour. It's a scary proposition for I would much rather keep playing in the shallow end of the blue-tiled, chlorinated pool than to venture into the pulsating warmth of the emerald, sunlit sea.
So Lent continued along its unconventional turn in its final week when Mum and I went to Taiwan to visit my youngest brother, NB, last week. The trip was his birthday gift to Mum and I lucked out for the invite included me too. There is merit in being the big sister who used to wash his milk bottles every day and change his soggy nappys. For me, the timing was less than ideal but no point going up there if he wasn’t free to take us around. So we arrived a day before the tomb-sweeping public holiday that gave him a four-day weekend.
We had a blast – meeting his friends, checking out his haunts, going on a road trip to Puli and Sun Moon Lake and spending the day in Taipei doing the tourist thing. The visit to the National Palace Museum to view its impressive collection of artefacts and the even more impressive swell of humanity that thronged the corridors was a highlight of the trip. NB had pulled out all the stops in planning a perfect vacation for us and it was… perfect. Even the uncooperative weather proved to be a refreshing change. Who needed hot and sunny for we get that all the time back home. We ate well, laughed much and enjoyed the time we spent together.
The joy of Easter percolated over as we celebrated new life into family bonds and felt the presence of Jesus in the affirmation of the ties that bind us.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Mustard seeds
Yes, I made it! I passed my Pilates exam and I am still on a high since yesterday. Most of all, I give thanks to the One who made it possible.It was hard leading up to March 29th, I experienced many moments of near-despair for it seemed an uphill and impossible task to finish all the prep before the exam: getting signed off on being able to perform all the exercises perfectly (with my bum shoulder it was frustration in the extreme) and finding the time to type up all my notes and study. Amid the distractions of teaching and all the other activities He had called me to say yes to – all this within the absurd time frame of two months was a logistical nightmare. Then there was the severe drain on my financial resources which did not help.
At one point in time I came close to abandoning the route I’d chosen for it all seemed too difficult. A chat with my Spiritual Director sorted me out for he told me, “You cannot change course in the midst of crisis”. I had to trust that thus far, what I had discerned through prayer and meditation was indeed His will for me and I had to persevere walking through the valley. Giving up was not an option.
Despite the madness and the little faith in my ability to make it, the one thing that kept me going was to surrender and let go of my human fears, and trust Him to lead the way. He has been doing such a fantastic job these last few years, so how could I possibly allow perceived obstacles to dilute my faith now?
I hung on stubbornly to my prayer time for I knew that this was vital in terms of spiritual sustenance. The experience of praying for the success of the IWD event made me realize how crucial it was to pray for His anointing. So I would ask for His blessing and guidance every morning and leave everything else up to Him – how to balance my time between study and work, etc.
When I look back on March and all that I was called to undertake, I am awed at how being faithful to each task led to blessings unimagined and abundant. How each little seed, when tended with love, sprouted, and became beautiful testimonies of His love for me.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Place of springs
Words have also spoken to me. There is so much beauty and power in the language of words, whether verbal or written. They can evoke rich images, call forth intense emotions and invoke strong responses. They can bless. But they can also curse. And hence, should be used judiciously. Words spoken out of anger or malice will poison the atmosphere, which even true remorse is unable to repair. A faint scar remains behind, even after the wound inflicted has long healed. Conversely, words of love and affirmation are like water to the thirsty plants of our souls, allowing them to grow upright and burst into flower.Some of the most beautiful language I’ve encountered lies within the world’s most popular ‘book’ – the Bible. It is, after all, the inspired Word of God. I find it quite amazing that Jesus speaks to me so meaningfully today through words that were passed down through the centuries, first by oral tradition, and later in written records. Somehow, He meets me at the very point of my struggle or triumph, my sorrow or joy. What’s more, He is able to infuse a wealth of meaning into a few chosen sentences so that a certain passage of Scripture can take on different shades of colour each time I meditate on it.
The Book of Psalms ranks among my favourite reads as this collection of songs emotes so beautifully the various postures of prayer one can take, be it praise, adoration, thanksgiving, lament or repentance. Through the Liturgy of the Hours*, I’ve come to love the poetry and symbolism found in the Psalms, as I make the words my own, applying them to my daily life. One I especially love is Psalm 84, in particular, verse 7:
“As they go through the Bitter Valley
They make it a place of springs,
The autumn rain covers it with blessings.
They walk with ever growing strength,
They will see the God of gods in Sion.”
It is alive with imagery that gives hope and courage to persevere. As we journey through seasons of darkness and hostility, we can choose to transform it into something pure and life-giving. Drawing on faith that gives strength, and the ability to see the bounty and bear fruit even in the heart of darkness.
Setbacks, disasters, catastrophes, trials, these are hallmarks of human suffering. But we are given the freedom to choose how we respond to them. We can either give in to despair and respond in bitterness, or we can choose to rely on Him to be the light, even when we are lost and groping around in the dark, and gain something good from our suffering.
“Lord, God of hosts,
happy the man who trusts in you!”
*The Liturgy of the Hours is the Catholic Church’s official daily prayer, whereby the hours are consecrated to God. It is prayed either in a group or individually and involves praise, thanksgiving, lament and intercession in Christ’s name and in communion with Him. At the heart of the Hours is the Book of Psalms.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Called
By name you call me every day,
To walk with steadfastness and love.
Be light to those who cannot see,
And salt to season lives with joy.
The wounded hearts and battered spirits
All casualties of humankind’s ills,
To comfort and with care affirm,
Bring hope and dignity restore.
To practise charity at home
Let respect and patience rule the day.
Forgive each sin; to live and let live…
Give thanks for moments light and dark.
How wonderfully you’ve made me thus
So blessed am I, where grace abounds
Let me answer your call with fervent love
That I may change the world with who I am.
By Jackie Pau
Monday, March 12, 2007
Woman Power
The Woman to Woman Ministry’s International Women’s Day celebration took place yesterday afternoon at St. Bernadette’s and it was time of gathering to reflect and take stock of life at both the macro and micro levels. Learn new ways to get closer to Jesus and discern His will in our lives. And, celebrate life together as women of faith. Violence against women and girls is nothing new, and yet, it still remains a problem today. The statistics were horrifying. According to a UN study on women: ”At least one out of every three women has been beaten, coerced into sex or otherwise abused in her lifetime.” And this is usually by someone she knows. For more, go to:
Why is it that in this age of so-called progress, of scientific and technological wonders, that human beings haven’t evolved to the point where a basic respect of the rights and dignity of the human person is present? Why is it that women continue to be the primary victims of child prostitution or labour, sexual exploitation, abuse in the home and human trafficking?
What are we doing wrong? Just last week, I read in the newspaper a case of several instances of incest in one family which were supported by the women in the home because they believed it was permissible. Then there was the recent case of a pregnant nine-year-old.
Jacinta Phoon, who was the keynote speaker gave further insight into abuse suffered by young women in Singapore today, and how girls thought of themselves based on the feedback they received from the environment around them. Instead of thinking of themselves as individuals with certain inalienable rights, many young women perceive themselves as objects and measured their self-worth accordingly.
Jacinta Phoon, who was the keynote speaker gave further insight into abuse suffered by young women in Singapore today, and how girls thought of themselves based on the feedback they received from the environment around them. Instead of thinking of themselves as individuals with certain inalienable rights, many young women perceive themselves as objects and measured their self-worth accordingly.
Are we, as women, doing enough to dispel the darkness around us? Or are we, sitting safe and sound in our homes, saying, “It’s not my problem”? Worse, do we buy into the rationalization and the relativism of the world around us and think, “There is no problem - that’s the way things are nowadays”?
Can we change the world where we are? “What difference can I make, as one solitary woman with all these responsibilities to shoulder?” “I have no time, nor the capability.” “This is beyond me. Only a higher authority can deal with the situation, not me.”
Lao Tzu said: "A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step." We can change the world by changing our world.
Begin by claiming our status as beloved daughters of God and the authority that comes with being woman created in the image and likeness of God. We need to believe in ourselves and love ourselves the way the Father loves us. Then, confident in His love, we can, in our own unique ways, make a difference to the people we come into contact with every day – family, friends, acquaintances, colleagues, the elderly person who lives next door, the woman whom we buy vegetables from…
In Isaiah 1:17, we are exhorted to “learn to do good, seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow”. If each of us makes the conscious effort to seek Jesus in each other, be His body, His hands and His feet*, then each of us has the power to change the world.
* Christ has no body now on earth but yours, no hands but yours, no feet but yours; yours are the eyes through which to look at Christ's compassion to the world, yours are the feet with which He is to go about doing good, and yours are the hands with which He is to bless us now." - St. Teresa of Avila
Lao Tzu said: "A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step." We can change the world by changing our world.
Begin by claiming our status as beloved daughters of God and the authority that comes with being woman created in the image and likeness of God. We need to believe in ourselves and love ourselves the way the Father loves us. Then, confident in His love, we can, in our own unique ways, make a difference to the people we come into contact with every day – family, friends, acquaintances, colleagues, the elderly person who lives next door, the woman whom we buy vegetables from…
In Isaiah 1:17, we are exhorted to “learn to do good, seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow”. If each of us makes the conscious effort to seek Jesus in each other, be His body, His hands and His feet*, then each of us has the power to change the world.
* Christ has no body now on earth but yours, no hands but yours, no feet but yours; yours are the eyes through which to look at Christ's compassion to the world, yours are the feet with which He is to go about doing good, and yours are the hands with which He is to bless us now." - St. Teresa of Avila
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