Waiting on God's time

Just 10 days into the new year, a relationship which I value greatly, that has been on ice for years inexplicably thawed out. I was amazed (still am), and it has been delightful to have the old B back after more than a decade. I have missed him sorely.

To this day I am mostly unclear as to how it descended to such depths of animosity given the previously close bond we enjoyed, but there you have it, human egos and sensibilities are fragile. We hurt easily and we hurt each other just as easily. We erupt into anger without any good reason at times other than pride, and we take ages to forgive and forget. We cling on to our points of view with fanatical fervour, forsaking good sense and compassion.

While I have never stopped loving B all this time, and I have always tried to take the high moral ground, to be mature and forgiving, it has not been easy. Try hugging a hedgehog, it is infinitely less painful. I have ping-ponged from bewildered hurt to searing anger, to righteous indignation, to inconsolable sorrow, to hardened indifference, and to calm resignation and back through the years.

At the same time, this estrangement has helped me become stronger, gentler, and more reflective as a person. I questioned myself, my intentions and my behaviour frequently. Am I really that bad? While at the time I felt helpless and unable to fix this particular relationship despite my desire for reconciliation, I refused to give in to bitterness or hopelessness. Instead, I worked on other relationships in my life even as I kept asking for the grace to be loving towards B regardless of his behaviour toward me. I also committed our relationship to the Lord for His healing then I waited, and waited. And waited.

Last week I met with my SD and we were talking about this jubilee year and what does mercy imply. He said we are called to be farmers for farmers have to work hard every day and wait for the right time to reap the harvest. They have to be able to read the signs. He added into the mix the parable of the darnel and the wheat (Matthew 13:24-30). Sometimes we have to allow the darnel, the weeds in our lives to keep growing among the wheat, and to deal with it only at harvest time. If we are impatient and insist on weeding, then we may damage the whole crop. Thus to be a spiritual farmer requires patience and wisdom to accompany others even when they may not fully appreciate our presence, or are still ensnared within the weeds of sin. It is tiring and thankless work and we must be prepared to go the distance even when faced with repeated setbacks and failures.

When he shared this aspect of mercy with me I could relate for I have had to continuously weed out my own animosity and despair over the years even as I let the situation play out as it will. I have had to keep fertilizing our encounters with generosity, compassion and forgiving love (even when I felt like throttling him). On my own strength I would have given up a long time ago and walked away in disgust. Therefore the current situation is due to the Almighty and Him alone. Leaning on His grace, and His timing, was sufficient for me.

When I look back on all the difficult moments I am awed by the goodness of God, the goodness that has kept me joyous, hopeful, faithful, wise and strong. I am grateful for the incidental fruit that were born of this fractured relationship for my persistence blessed other relationships inadvertently.

Today I give thanks to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and to His mother and the entire community of saints, heavenly and earthly, who have prayed alongside with me through the years. God is truly good all the time.

Keeping the joy alive

The year began with many people I know and love, who are experiencing tough times. Some are truly undergoing real doozies, while others are experiencing garden variety problems (at times self-inflicted) that while unpleasant and do inconvenience life, are not what I call cataclysmic.

The irony of it all is that the people who are going through genuinely challenging times have gritted their teeth and are soldiering on cheerfully. Their problems do not define them nor do they let adversity diminish their joie de vivre. It is those who are undergoing the blips who are completely engulfed by their difficulties and totally bent out of shape. They are stressed out, hair-trigger snippy and kinda zap all the fun out of life.

I have to admit I have less patience with the latter and it takes a whole lot more energy from me to be present and sympathetic. At the same time I do realize that their emotional distress is real and I do try to lend a listening ear even if inside I am marvelling at how the depth of distress does not, at all, match the severity of the issue.

They make me reflect on myself. Am I like that? Whining and complaining that life is terrible, so stressed out that people around me find it difficult to be around me? Am I an energy vampire? I agree, it is hard not to take life personally, that is, to think that I am the only person in the world experiencing my problems, poor me, why is it only me, so I truly thank God that my level of faith helps me get a handle on things.

When life threatens to overwhelm me I pray. Somehow the ability to admit I am not in control and to ask for divine help calms me and enables me to look at things differently. My circumstances may not change, although there are times miracles do manifest and what I thought impossible happens, but what's more important is that internally I am given the grace of wisdom and fortitude to chill, reflect and then know what I can do in order to move forward, be it a change in thinking or behaviour.

Prayer, connecting with God, liberates me and I am able to divorce myself from the situation so that I can still experience joy and gratitude in any given day no matter how "bad" it was. I am also given perspective. While my situation may not be ideal, it is nowhere near the plight of those who have to worry about their next meal, or who are maimed and severely handicapped for life (I recently met someone who was slashed by her stalker and reduced to permanent breathing and walking difficulties as well as constant physical pain).

I can draw on faith, a deep-seated conviction of a love, God's love for me and the world, that conquers all. Christ's self-sacrificial love has already won me the redemption of eternal life so that no matter what happens in my life I know I am protected, cherished and never alone (nothing and no one can separate me from the love of Christ). I am also empowered by my baptism to overcome obstacles and calamities that come my way, turning them into opportunities to re-invent myself and find new life.

Today is the feast of the Baptism of the Lord and as Archbishop Francesco Follo reminds us: the feast of the Baptism of Jesus will be for us not only a moment when we get to listen to his Gospel with joy, but also an invitation to be witnesses of Christ with a life lived in joy, because in the Son we are loved and forgiven children.

We are encouraged to remember we are consecrated by virtue of baptism meaning: We are all called to offer ourselves to the Father with Jesus and like Jesus, making a generous gift of our lives, in the family, at work, in the service of the Church, in works of mercy.

I can only hope that through the ups and downs of my life, in living out my Christian identity given to me through baptism, the Holy Spirit will be alive within me so much that the Father say, "You are my daughter, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased" (Luke 3:22).

Follow the star

For me, the magic of Christmas is in the readings and the carols we sing during this season, not the gifts or the merry feasting. There is much beauty in the story of a king born in extremely humble circumstances, without fanfare, and first worshipped by poor shepherds who were informed by jubilant angels. Here is a king who loves the poor and the marginalized, who favours the least among us. I do not have to worry that He will spurn my love or find me unworthy of loving. He accepts me just as I am, in my poverty of self doubt, crippling fears and sinful ways.

Then there is the story of Epiphany (Sunday past): how star-led Magi find this tiny baby king and how they paid homage with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. And so the birth of Jesus, God's promise of love for the whole world is revealed. The Magi inspire me to keep my eye on the star, the light that will lead me to Christ, and to pay proper obeisance to a ruler who will lay down his life for me.

I like this reflection by Archbishop Francesco Follo:

At Epiphany, the Savior continues to be a light for the peoples of every time and every place. To the Magi, coming from the East to worship him, the light of the newborn king takes the form of a star in the sky, so bright to attract their attention and guide them first ,to Jerusalem  then from the royal palace of Herod to new Royal Palace: the cave-stable in Bethlehem.

Everything around him looks like an extremely poor earthly reality. But those watching with eyes of faith, thanks to a bright sign, can see the King of kings. What is this royal sign by which the Magi then and we now can recognize the King of kings in the Son of Mary, in the humble condition of the child who lives in a poor stable? It is the Star that shows the way and the place where to meet the King who saves.

This star shows the way to these seekers of Infinity, because they look at the sky and try to well interpret the signs. The Magi are people who wonder about reality, not being satisfied with the response of others. They seek a deeper understanding of reality and of the meaning of life.

This extraordinary star, that could be called "theological" because it "speaks of God” and “teaches about God", after leading the Magi from the East all the way to Bethlehem, Indicates and teaches that this Child is the Son the Most High God, the Prince of Peace.

If, like the Magi, I seek to comprehend what life is asking of me,and I am attentive to the Spirit's prompting, then I will be able to see the star, and, by faith, to follow the star to Jesus.

The Magi prostrate themselves to the authority of love. They believe in this infinite love contained in the infant Jesus.

In front of this baby, recognized as the awaited Messianic King, the Magi prostrate themselves in a sincere act of worship and then offer some symbolic gifts: gold, frankincense and myrrh. These gifts offered to the Messiah "symbolized true worship" (see Saint John Paul II). They are gifts that express a faith established by the encounter with Jesus, who is King to be honored with gold, God to be worshiped with incense and a prayer that rises to Him like the most pleasing incense, and the Man, Son of God, who died for our salvation.

Like the Magi, today we are invited to renew, before the Incarnate Word, our act of faithful adherence by offering not only the little or the lot that we have, but ourselves as a sacrifice holy and well-accepted to Him. It is thanks to this daily offering of self that we become, in the world and for the world, signs of the new humanity redeemed by Christ and witnesses of the mystery of love celebrated at Christmas.

Like the Magi, let us be amazed by the love of God that comes to us, and let’s kneel in front of the Incarnate Word, Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives among us and in the Eucharist. Let’s go to church more often, let’s sit by the altar and humbly imitate the Holy Magi, offering the gold of our love for God and our brothers and sisters, the incense of our praise and our prayer, and the myrrh of the suffering that never fails in our lives.

What a beautiful description of faith we are invited to put into action, to submit completely to the authority of love and to donate ourselves totally to God. Some may struggle with what sounds like submission to a way of life that requires great sacrifice. But Archbishop Follo writes so aptly:

....the gift of self to God is not a renounce to live, but “it is a renounce to what are the limits of a living like a poor and infirm creature to live the fullness of a life immense as the divine life "(Divo Barsotti, January 6, 1963).

Giving ourselves to God is not submissive act made by people who are weak-minded or who refuse to think for themselves, rather it is an act of humble wisdom that sees beyond the superficial, and of stouthearted courage to adopt a new and radical way of living. It is saying yes, again and again, to the way of God, of peace, love and mercy even in the face of hostile aggression and hatred.

The year ahead promises to be a busy and challenging one for there are many things I would like to see happen. The only way I can bring my hopes and dreams to fruition is if I keep following the star to look for Jesus even when I am uncertain, and when I do find Him, to sit and enjoy, then act on the epiphanies that come from adoring the King of Kings.

Making pain work for you

I have experienced a fair bit of pain from a host of ailments this year as well as the emotional pain of accompanying my aunt before she went back to the Lord and I thought I would end the year with a personal reflection on pain. What have I learned from my pain this year? How has it changed me?

I started the year in pain due to plantar fasciitis and I learned that I needed to change the way I lived. Pain is the body’s way of telling me something is wrong, and that adjustments need to be made, sometimes permanently. I resented that. Why must it be different? Why can’t things stay the same? As I made the necessary adjustments I realized that embracing the change that pain brought on was not the worst thing on earth. While my body is less forgiving of abuse as I age, I can learn to treat myself a little better, be a little kinder to my body, work a little smarter. Don’t they say health is wealth?

In developing my spirituality, there is so much focus on being present, and self-awareness, and yet, sometimes, this focus is too narrow and I neglect to do the same for my physical self. Why when my body is the very thing I need in order to be the hands and feet of Christ?What good can I do to help others when I do not help myself first? I am limited when I am in pain. I cannot give fully if I myself am not feeling 100 per cent.

I am getting older. I have to acknowledge my body’s physical decline. I am entering a new phase of my life where mortality stakes its claim in strident hormonal tones. All the wise moves include eating the right foods, stretching, exercising, slowing down, sleeping adequately, and discharging the stresses of the day by practising mindfulness in my body. And when work gets the better of my body, my roller and my lacrosse ball are my BFF. I can no longer get away with doing nothing.

Pain of the psychic type is not as straightforward to deal with. It was tough seeing my aunt suffer so much before her demise. She had bronchitis that developed into pneumonia, and subsequently turned into tuberculosis. Coupled with a weak heart, she was in CCU for eight weeks, spent a week in the normal ward before she slid into a semi-coma and passed away. Why must there be so much suffering, so much desolation before one goes? I found it hard to handle when I visited her. My heart broke to see her so diminished and waif-like. She could not talk nor move. She was alive but completely immobilized and reliant on machines to keep her alive. She was justifiably depressed and wanted to die. Why God? Why? Is this all I have to look forward to in my not too distant future? I come back to pain, and suffering, being part and parcel of life.

God will not meddle to take all the pain and suffering in the world away for then the gift of free will would be taken away from us. Instead, He walks with us. And because He loves us, He weeps with us. He took on humanity to redeem us and we can be like Him when we offer up our pain and suffering for the redemption of the world. Pain can diminish us, but it can also make us heroic. Pain can make us ego-centric, but it can also help us grow beyond our selfishness. In the crucible of pain, we can find maturity, wisdom and fortitude.   

Many of the saints experienced great pain, whether physical or mental, and they somehow rose above their suffering (through grace) to live out their charisms fully. I think of Saint Damien of Molokai who contracted leprosy himself after working tirelessly to improve the living conditions of those banished to Molokai. I think of Saint Pio of Petrulcina who was in poor health and endured long years of embarrassing stigmata. I think of Blessed Mother Teresa who could not experience God’s presence in her life in her latter years but never let on and kept loving the poor and dying. I think of Saint Maximilian Kolbe who voluntarily gave up his life to save another prisoner of war in Auschwitz and suffered starvation/dehydration before being killed by lethal injection. I think of Saint Bernadette who was ridiculed for her visions. These are all ordinary men and women who overcame their own personal pain and suffering to glorify God with their lives.  

I am not suggesting we manufacture our own pain and suffering which many unfortunately do through unwise choices in life, but I can see that when pain strikes, there is always a way out. Sometimes it is going by common sense, which is God-given anyway, but when it gets really tough, it is through God, with God, and in God, in unity with the Holy Spirit.

In the New Year I hope to be a little cleverer and a little more diligent in dealing with pain. And when it is beyond me, let me rely on Him and His wisdom alone.

Expanding the Christmas story

Montalban in Quezon City is a dumpsite where those who used to live in the slums in Manila were relocated (dumped, more like). When you enter into the area you are struck by  the constant traffic of lumbering garbage trucks transporting trash to be sorted out. Trash shops line the streets, buying the recyclables from scavengers. It is hot, dusty and the air is heavy with pollutants, by-products of the burning trash. Off in the distance you see emerald green hills, but the immediate terrain is arid grey, the roads are bumpy and potholed.

When you enter Harangan, you step into a wasteland of trash piled high everywhere. As you walk around the mounds of garbage, stepping mostly on discarded plastic wrappers and receptacles your senses are assailed by the heat and the stench of decomposing matter mingled with acrid smoke of burning plastic. Amidst the filth squat crowded, flimsy hovels cobbled from cardboard, corrugated zinc and canvas, often laid on top of rubbish.



This place is a death trap, and yet, here is where many young families live. Children throng the playground of discarded glass bottles, plastic containers, computer parts and rubber gloves. Mothers with infants are a common sight, as are pregnant women. Despite the relative youth of the population, everyone looks at you with dead, hopeless eyes.

As I stand, perspiring profusely in the oppressive heat, I can barely breathe, and not just because it stinks, but I am afraid of the swarming flies, afraid that I may inhale one or eat one accidentally as I sing. Singing We Wish You A Merry Christmas jars my sensibilities. I do not feel joyful being in extreme physical discomfort, neither can I be bringing joy to the families I visit. Who am I kidding? It's ludicrous to expect anyone to be glad in such circumstances, even for a while. And if they are, so what? Life does not change appreciably after we leave.

But hardened as they are by poverty, they are happy to see us, and they welcome us. Many weep when we pray for them. All are grateful that they are not forgotten, that someone thinks them important enough to call them by name, to hear their stories and pray with them. They hold the little blessed photo of the Holy Family with reverent hands. With lighter hearts and radiant smiles they bid us goodbye.

Reverse carolling in Montalban is always a stretch, both physically and mentally. Such places should not exist on our planet, it's depressing that they do. And yet, there are many graces, one of which is the Balikatan Ministry. I am always awed and inspired by their faith, their compassion for others and how empowered they are, although they themselves are not much better off then those we visit. I love visiting with them to catch up on life.

Joecellan, Maricor and Noralyn are the hardworking leaders who live in nearby Suburban and do all the initial tedious legwork weeks before we descend on them, sussing out who are the poorer families in the areas we visit and could do with some extra food. And finally, together, we go out as a cohesive team over one and a half days, united in the spirit of giving, bringing the message of Christ's preferential love to the families.

As I finally entered Christmas this year, all that I did over the days of reverse carolling came flooding back. The message of the readings I heard and the carols I sang echoed what we proclaimed during reverse carolling, that Jesus was born to be with us (God so loved the world that He gave us His only Son and if we believe this, we will not perish and we will have eternal life, John 3:16), and he chose a particular manner to come into the world: He was born poor to be with the poor. He does not forget or neglect any of us in our poverty, He brings light to our darkness; joy to our suffering.

This message of Christmas is the Christian vocation. If I love God, I must love others especially my brothers and sisters in need. I must not, cannot, forget them.  And so I prayed especially for those in Mindoro who suffered the recent typhoon. I prayed for single women parents like Ate Laling who have no means of income. I prayed for toddler Mark Jacob's family, who lost him a day before we held our outreach in Kavisayaan. I wondered if Rona's 21 year old nephew will get the necessary medical assistance* soon so he can see (he has cataracts) or whether the little boy with the broken jaw is better? Then there is the little girl who has a protrusion from her chest.

Pope Francis in his Christmas Urbi et Orbi message said:

He alone, he alone can save us.  Only God’s mercy can free humanity from the many forms of evil, at times monstrous evil, which selfishness spawns in our midst.  The grace of God can convert hearts and offer mankind a way out of humanly insoluble situations.

Where God is born, hope is born.  Where God is born, peace is born.  And where peace is born, there is no longer room for hatred and for war.  Yet precisely where the incarnate Son of God came into the world, tensions and violence persist, and peace remains a gift to be implored and built.

The Pope went on to pray for peace in the world; for the end to violence, terrorism, countries at war, people persecuted for various reasons and for people deprived of their human dignity and, like the child Jesus, suffer cold, poverty, and rejection. May our closeness today be felt by those who are most vulnerable, especially child soldiers, women who suffer violence, and the victims of human trafficking and the drug trade. Neither did he forget the poor or the unemployed.

Pope Francis ended with this encouragement:

Where God is born, mercy flourishes. Mercy is the most precious gift which God gives us, especially during this Jubilee year in which we are called to discover that tender love of our heavenly Father for each of us. May the Lord enable prisoners in particular to experience his merciful love, which heals wounds and triumphs over evil.  

The world we live in needs a lot of work. We must, each one, continue to work towards peace, justice and equality in our spheres of influence through mercy. May our hearts be moved by the Christmas message of inclusive, selfless love and may we live out Christmas every day. Peace out.

*  Those we meet who require medical attention get referred to relevant groups that can offer them the necessary assistance.

Post-reverse carolling reflection

Since returning from reverse carolling in the Philippines, it's been hard to shift gears, especially since my flight home last Tuesday was delayed for one and a half hours by the typhoon-created winds at the airport and I later found out that one of the people we visited in Mindoro had died due to the typhoon. Mindoro was in the path of Typhoon Nona or Melor and Father Caloy had messaged that he himself was forced to evacuate, roofs had blown off the homes of many, and dry clothes and food were in short supply.

It is hard to get jolly in the face of natural disaster and my own personal close shave, and the abject poverty I just experienced. Plus, this is the period of Advent, a period where I am supposed to prepare my heart to receive the gift of Immanuel, God with us. It is not a season of anticipated gorging, gift-giving and financial extravagance. I find it quite ironic that Americans who assiduously avoid using the word Christmas throw themselves so enthusiastically into the Christmas season and engage in a frenzy of spending and of decorating their homes so lavishly.

Yes, Christmas is the season for gift-giving, but not of the material. Christmas is the story of the greatest gift of all time, the tale of salvation incarnate in the tiny Christ child. To truly enter into the spirit of Christmas, one must spread the joy of this message of redemption. I need to sit quietly and contemplate what I can do to prepare my heart to receive this awesome gift come December 25.

During reverse carolling, we spoke of feelings of helplessness when faced with the ugly, pervasive and continued presence of poverty and what it does to the human spirit and body. Here is where many rail at God for not doing anything to change desperate situations, or where many disavow the existence of God. We forget that we are loved so much that we are given free will, and that we can turn around the darkness that envelopes us when we turn to God and work with Him. Neither natural disasters nor poverty can defeat us, especially if we all work together to rebuild and transform.

During the penitential service I attended last week, Father spoke of the importance of this
Extraordinary Jubilee of Mercy that we have just entered on December 8. When we are faced precisely with moments where we feel helpless, or where the darkness threatens to overwhelm, then we engage in prayer. He encouraged me to pray the Divine Mercy chaplet to ask for the gift of God's mercy, then to witness and participate in the wonderful mystery of mercy that will manifest in the world. I found this such a beautiful message of hope: greater and wonderful things are yet to come, so let us continue to be faithful and obedient in spirit. Thus will the power of God's mercy unfold fully in the world.

As Father Caloy preached on December 8, this Extraordinary Jubilee of Mercy is a time where we allow ourselves to experience the mercy of God as true prodigals who repent and receive the Father's generous forgiveness; where we actively share this message of God's loving mercy with others; and where we ourselves must show mercy to others as true disciples and missionaries of Christ.

To be true missionaries, Father Caloy shared, on another occasion, the significance of creativity (keep finding ways to make something work instead of giving up), for us to work with a sense of urgency, and to team up with others for we cannot go it alone. When I think of how the team* of people came together this reverse carolling under the direction and driving force of ICPE Mission Philippines (thank you Albert, Esther and Joan and their lovely guests Adjka and Katka from Slovakia), and how we worked with various different teams - the San Isidro Labrador Chaplaincy under Father Caloy in Mindoro, the Missionaries of Charity sisters in Kavisayaan, the Claretian sisters in Salaban, and the Balikatan community in Montalban - I am awed at how God connected us all to make all the outreaches successful, not forgetting the generous group of donors from Singapore and the Missionary Society of Saint Paul (MSSP) fathers who kindly offered us a home for our overnight stay in Manila. When we labour as one people to bring in the harvest, then it will indeed be a rich and plentiful one.

While I must get busy preparing my home to receive guests and for the massive cookfest and multiple gatherings of family and friends, I will hold fast to the profound meaning of Christmas and make room for Jesus in the sacred emptiness of my heart. I will also continue to hold the families we visited in my heart and not forget them in the comfort of my home here in Singapore.

*  To complete the team, Jeanny brought with her from KK Ben, Ian, Louisa and Luke. 

Reverse carolling in Mindoro

Carolling in Mindoro was one of the easiest reverse carolling experiences physically, but also one of the most challenging emotionally. It was easy because Father Caloy and his team of dedicated volunteers from San Isidro Labrador Chaplaincy was extremely hospitable and super organized, and assisted us fully, driving us almost point to point everywhere, and carrying the hampers which were filled with four kilos of rice, canned food and other grocery basics.

It was very difficult emotionally for the poverty of the families we visited was quite extreme. Life is hard. There is barely any work to be found every day even if one wants to work. Often we visited families whose breadwinner, the man of the house, was home, sitting in the darkness of his ramshackle hut with vacant, hopeless eyes.

There were instances we came across single parent families like Ate Laling's, whose husband left her for another women, leaving her with two children to feed besides herself. At the time she was left to fend for her family, she was in such dire straits that she was forced to live in an abandoned pig pen with her two children. She has no source of income and her daughter who is around fifteen has a mental disability and is incapable of doing much. Ate Laling herself is mentally challenged and does not comprehend much. When we visited, her twelve year old son was in school and she now lives in a hut built for her family next to the pig pen.

Farming is back-breaking work, especially rice, or padi, which is manually planted. After the landlord takes a substantial share of the harvest, the farmer gets his share which he sells to the middle man at a depressed price who then sells it for exponentially more money. Whatever pittance the farmer earns must last him through the next planting cycle until harvest time rolls around again. In the meantime he can only hope he has no emergencies that require extra cash for he cannot afford it. Neither can he afford a poor harvest due to inclement weather conditions.

Most of the people I met did not own the squalid, cramped shacks they call home. They literally live in darkness when the sun sets, mostly forgotten, hunkering down amidst the untamed greenery and the fields of cultivated padi, corn, banana, coconut and calamansi. And yet, they were hospitable when we came calling, offering us buko or coconut juice and saman (rice wrapped in banana leaves). Father Caloy calls it the richness of the poor.

What can be done to help them break the poverty cycle when the issues run so deep? It is systemic, structural (some places have no running water and people have to visit the church well for water every day) and cultural (the Munyan hill tribe is largely looked down on and ignored, as are the single female parent families, the elderly, the sick and the handicapped destitute).

I felt angry, sad and helpless when I learned the stories of each family I visited. And yet there is hope. One person can make a difference. This was my take home message from Mindoro. Father Caloy is a man for the people, especially the poor and the marginalized. He has a heart for the poorest of the poor and works tirelessly to better their lives and further their cause.

Because of his wide-ranging vision and unwavering love for the poor, he has founded a community of like-minded volunteers in the San Isidro Labrador Chaplaincy who work with him to effect a change in the outlying areas. In turn, there has been a trickle down effect such that the barangay or village captains and the people living within the different barangays are themselves sensitive to the cries of help from their neighbours and lend a hand when needed even when they themselves are not much better off. Ate Laling's new hut is a result of such communal cooperation.

It was amazing to witness such a spirit of solidarity and subsidiarity amongst the people, and I have a great admiration for Father Caloy for he talks and walks the talk all the time. Here is a pastor, a priest,  who live among the poor and takes on the smell of his flock, who goes in search of the lost sheep and carries it home on his shoulders to safety.

If you know the story of the boy who walked along the shoreline picking up beached starfish to throw them back into the water, Father Caloy is the boy who not only throws the distressed starfish back, but he has a band of friends who follow his example, and he has even inspired the starfish in the shallows to pull their brothers and sisters on the sand back to the safety of the water.

So when I start to think that I, as one woman, cannot do much to effect social change, I just need to think of Father Caloy. All things are possible for God and if I walk in faith as Father Caloy does, I can make a difference. A big one.

This is the way - preparation day II

Yesterday at mass Father RV asked when did we last see miracles happen? He wanted us to ponder this question. I received one this morning as I meditated on today's Scripture readings, first from Isaiah 30:19-21,23-26, then Psalm 146:1-6, and finally the Gospel from Matthew 9:35-10:1,5,6-8.

Everything fell into place for me. It couldn't be clearer for today's readings are all about the commissioning and sending of disciples to encourage the harassed and the dejected. If I go boldly and give freely, as Jesus did, then I will live today in the Good News of the Kingdom. I am excited to depart for Mindoro tomorrow for many miracles will happen. Seeds will yield a veritable harvest and we will help harvest the bounty the Lord has provided. All who partake will be nourished, body and soul.

The Lord will go, I need only obey. 
'This is the way, follow it.’
For He has heard the cries of the poor
And He sends me, and you, 
With authority and power
To cure the sick, raise the dead, 
cleanse the lepers, cast out devils.
Happy are those who hope in the Lord!
For gone is the bread of suffering, 
the water of distress
He will send rain for the seed you sow, 
The bread that the ground provides 
will be rich and nourishing.
No more darkness, only light, 
Life-giving and bright.
Happy are all who hope in the Lord.

Preparing for reverse carolling

It is that time of year where I find myself in the Philippines for reverse carolling (my fifth foray) and I find myself still not quite able to articulate well why I do this when I am asked the question. There are many reasons, of course. In fact, too many for me to be able to share coherently in casual conversation, but at its deepest level, it remains a mystery for it is my response to God's invitation to be here.

As Blaise Pascal said: The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing. He is spot on.

Reverse carolling is a heart response for me and the heart is where God speaks to me the loudest. When I am moved to action, like the Good Samaritan was (our Scripture for reflection was Luke 10:25-37), that is when I know I must respond with great sincerity and love, as Jesus did in His ministry on earth.

We spent the day in preparation for it is important to prepare the heart so that we can be open to the movement of the Spirit and can thus respond most appropriately. I found it very difficult to reflect today, not from lack of trying, and it was a little unnerving. I do not presume to know it all and I am going in with no expectation except my desire to meet Jesus in the poor and hopefully be a powerful sign of His love to those I will meet.

If truth be told, I feel empty, and I am hoping it is the emptiness of expectant faith and the emptiness of dying to self that I bring with me when I am out there. At today's commissioning mass, Father told us a story of how instead of being given what we ask for, we will be handed the seeds. It is up to us to work with Jesus to grow those seeds so that they will become the fruit of whatever it is that we so desire. The transformation from seed to fruit is where we will see miracles manifest.

We have another day of preparation tomorrow so I will wait on the Lord for I know the seeds have already been given to me and He will reveal to me during these coming days what are the fruits that I will receive, and in turn, share them with the many people I will meet in Mindoro, Tagaytay and Montalban. I just have to be patient, and wait.

Lord, please grant me a listening and obedient heart so that I can be a missionary of mercy who will bring new life and profound, lasting joy to those I meet, and to my own soul. And let miracles abound as your glory becomes visible to and in all of us.

Staying awake this Advent

Recently a Christian pastor in Singapore was charged with the misuse of church funds to the tune of S$50 million and was sentenced to eight years in jail. Then there is someone I know who is in active ministry, well respected in her Christian community, who emotionally abuses her parents whom she lives with.

These are two examples of godly people, good people who have transformed lives and brought comfort and joy to others. So what is it about these two great people that blinds them to their less than Christian ways?

It makes me wonder, am I as blind as they are, are my values as warped or elastic as theirs seem to be? It scares me when Christian leaders hide dishonesty, meanness and other less attractive traits under the appearance of Christian virtue.

How do I ensure I keep walking on the right path and that my preferential treatment is for the poor, the weak, the sick, the disadvantaged, the young and the old, all the people who require a little more care and consideration? How do I avert the sin of pride or fat cat complacency?

As past Sunday's Gospel from Luke, chapter 21, warns:

Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy
from carousing and drunkenness
and the anxieties of daily life,
and that day catch you by surprise like a trap

Saint Luke goes on to counsel:

Be vigilant at all times
and pray that you have the strength
to escape the tribulations that are imminent
and to stand before the Son of Man.

Being vigilant implies a certain sacrifice and some measure of discomfort. It requires our ability to seek and find the light of truth in our lives, especially about our weaknesses, our own personal disposition to concupiscence. We will never be able to see all our own blind spots, but if we walk with God in humility, then He will reveal to us what we need to do to correct ourselves and continue to walk in the way of perfection. Frequent examen* is key.

Coming back to sacrifice, I know that I should never get too comfortable in how I live my life, especially in terms of material comfort. I should not get too attached to things, ideas, even people. As Luke reminds us, even anxiety which demonstrates a preoccupation with our own perceived problems is to be avoided. So the practice of temperance is necessary, abstinence, even, is good for the soul, lest I suffer from a drowsy heart.

If I am serious about serving, being in ministry, then vigilance is even more vital. I must be beyond reproach. This means being faithful in small things, all the time, to the best of my ability.

As Blessed John of Vercelli who was Master General of the Dominicans (1264-1283) wrote to his priests:

Watch the little things. He who grows careless in little things, little by little, falls. He who does not push himself to make progress, goes backwards.

Apart from the examen (and constant prayer, of course), ongoing faith formation helps keeps us on our toes. Not for the sake of acquiring knowledge so that I can parade my intellectual prowess, but to internalize the knowledge gained and to live it out concretely in my life. Because my memory is atrocious and sadly selective, I need to keep learning the lessons I have learned before, and to refine my behaviour, again and again.

Reminders like the season of Advent also assist us in our Christian walk. As we await the birth of our saviour, we need to prepare our hearts in order to allow the Christ child to be birthed in a hospitable corner of our hearts. If not, as Monsignor Vaz preached yesterday, Christmas will just be another holiday we celebrate, year in, year out, with no appreciable difference. Let us manifest our love for baby Jesus by loving others around us, especially those who drive us crazy, by being patient, forgiving and kind. In this way our waiting will be fruitful and we will have many gifts to adore our King with come Christmas Day.

*  The consciousness examen should be done at least twice in the day to recognize where and whether we met Jesus successfully or unsuccessfully. To find God in all things is very much Ignatian spirituality and a good habit to cultivate.

Wearing the authority of compassion

One of the panel speakers of a seminar I attended last week, Dr Ednin Hamzah, commented drily, "we should not be judgmental, which I am very comfortable with being". I laughed uproariously at this for I am equally predisposed to such bias.

He cautioned against being too smart that we forget to be wise. This was in reference to championing or advocating a cause to the extent we fall into the trap of impassioned zealousness that disallows us to consider any path but the one we see before us.

We forget we are dealing with people, so focused are we on concepts and ideas. We cannot see that we are not in control and that we do not know everything, that life is truly mystery. We were encouraged to listen, and to realize that it is all a process of fluid change. Although he made these comments with regard to Advanced Care Planning, what he counselled is applicable to life in general.

One of our greatest gifts as humans beings is our ability to analyze and judge situations and people in order to act with prudence. The problem comes when we become selfishly myopic, or overly rigid in principle. We lose sight of the forest for the trees.

We operate from what Henri Nouwen* calls the authority of power where if we give advice, we want to know if people follow what we say; when we offer help, we want to be thanked; when we give money, it has to be used a certain way. In other words, we do not allow others the freedom to speak or act contrary to what we think is right. We preach and pontificate. We know best. This is especially so when we evangelize.

When we bear witness to our faith, it should begin even before we begin to speak. We must first listen with openness and what Nouwen calls the authority of compassion. This authority is animated preeminently through a willing and personal encounter with the Spirit of the Father.

It is because I have experienced the compassionate hands of the Father placed on the shoulders of my repentant, bruised heart (as a prodigal child), a heart which has sinned and been sinned against, that I can treat others with the same mercy that the Father has bestowed on me.

I can be patient and persevere even when faced with hostile immaturity and aggressive persecution. I can be forgiving of ingratitude and of those who deliberately and maliciously set out to hurt me. My heart can sorrow for and with others, even those who do not deserve or desire my compassion.

In this past week I have been called to act in this spirit of Fatherhood and it has not been easy. K was rather nasty about what she perceived as her rights, using bullying tactics to get resolution. My first reaction was to fight back with an equal amount of aggression and to refuse to budge from my point of view. Of course I was within my rights. It is only when I took it in prayer that I could see the truth of the matter.

Ultimately it does not matter who is wrong or right for taking it to higher moral ground requires the grace of humility and wisdom. The humility to know I may be right but to act in the spirit of conciliation, and the wisdom to act in such a way that the other party experiences love, whether he or she knows it or not. One could call it the coward's way out, but it's not about being a doormat or avoiding confrontation, it's about weighing options and costs, and making the decision for peace even if it means I may the loser in the situation.

It is hard being the perceived loser, especially if it involves financial loss, but because I know everything comes from God, I am confident that He will provide for me in future. It's only money. Plus, I should be storing up my treasures in heaven, not on earth.

I also know I am loved dearly by Him, so even if I do not receive love from others, I am secure enough to resist seeking affirmation from the world. I have an acute sense of my own self-worth and I am quietly confident of who I am. So K, your bad behaviour was completely unnecessary and while it left a really unpleasant taste in my mouth, I will endeavour to look at you and focus on the aspects of your personality that delight me and make me laugh.      

I know I will always be comfortable being judgmental. I know I will always allow pride to insist I am smarter and 'righter' than others. But if I truly acknowledge Jesus as my Lord and saviour, I will always come home to this simple truth: I am His beloved and others can recognize this, and their own belovedness, if I reflect His love by being compassionate with them.

So try a little tenderness. In our current world state of chaos, we can all stand to be a little less judgmental, and a little more empathetic. It's the only way we can fight the darkness and best it.

*  From Henri Nouwen's The Return of the Prodigal Son which the Woman to Woman Ministry has just finished in recent weeks. 

Making spiritual fatherhood mine

It is just a numbers game to them. First, on Thursday, in an open-air market in southern Beirut, a couple of suicide bombers detonated themselves, killing 43 and wounding 239. Then eight men go out on Friday night, spraying bullets and setting off bombs in six locations in Paris, where people are just having a good time. Currently 129 people are reported dead, with over 350 injured. This is terrorism at its worst, tragically hiding behind the banner of religion.

How have we, humans, descended to hating each other so much that we would be willing to go on suicide missions, taking down as many lives with us as possible?

How much have we dishonoured God, Allah, by mocking the sanctity of life and killing in cold blood, then using Him as an excuse for our actions? One life destroyed in a deliberate of murder is one life too many.

Sunday's Gospel from Mark 13:24-42 aptly reads:

In those days after that tribulation
the sun will be darkened,
and the moon will not give its light,
and the stars will be falling from the sky,
and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.

Despite our horror at the world gone mad, the parousiac promise is this:

And then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in the clouds’
with great power and glory,
and then he will send out the angels
and gather his elect from the four winds,
from the end of the earth to the end of the sky.

We cannot give up hope that goodness will triumph over evil for Christ has already redeemed the world. We cannot rest in our efforts to transform our anger and bitterness into life-giving, creative ways that can reduce the number of these end times experiences.

This is our mandate as decent human beings, we stay vigilant at all times by being as loving, merciful and righteous as Jesus was. Ours not to figure out when our collective and individual ends will be, but ours to be fully prepared by living out Isaiah 61 as concretely as possible.

One such way is to take on the role of spiritual fatherhood that Henri Nouwen writes about in his book The Return of the Prodigal Son.

We are each called to be the patient and loving father to foolish and rebellious but returning prodigal children, as well as to the angry, resentful children who fail to see they are loved as much as the prodigals.

There are three ways Nouwen proposes we take on spiritual fatherhood: grief, forgiveness and generosity. He encourages grief, the shedding of tears for others, as a way to compassion. With insight Nouwen writes:

...grief is the discipline of the heart that sees the sin of the world, and knows itself to be the sorrowful price of freedom without which love cannot bloom.

Grieving becomes prayer when it prepares the heart to respond with compassion for often we are called to show compassion by forgiving others. As forgiving is "very, very difficult" and "next to impossible", Nouwen proposes a divine forgiveness which "comes from a heart that does not demand anything for itself", a heart that is completely empty of self-seeking" so that we can welcome others into our hearts without expecting anything in return. To be more like God, our Father, we need to remember our own identity as Beloved Child so that we can "step over" our own fears, needs, hurts, inclinations and pride to move into forgiveness.

Generosity, the giving of self is the third discipline Nouwen espouses as it is something that does not come spontaneously. He says:

As children of the darkness that rules through fear, self-interest, greed, and power, our great motivators are survival and self-preservation. But as children of the light who know that perfect love casts out all fear, it becomes possible to give all that we have for others. 

This can only happen when we trust the Father implicitly to take care of us and we believe that we are all kinfolk, brothers and sisters.

Grief, forgiveness and generosity call for a constant and active renewal of faith, "a radical discipline of being home". We must repeatedly return home into the Father's arms as repentant prodigals ourselves to allow the Father's tender, forgiving and generous love to heal us, so we can pay it forward by emulating Him with others in our lives.      

So how does spiritual fatherhood figure in this climate of terror? It begins with me refusing to give in to fear, and continuing to befriend peoples of different races and beliefs.

I neither persecute people who share diametrically opposing outlooks in life, nor do I disregard or avoid those who make me feel uncomfortable. I need to fight more for the rights of the marginalized and look for more wrongs to address. Most of all, I should carry the hearts of those I love, namely family members, with more compassion, tolerance and patience.

Nouwen writes that there is an emptiness that comes from selfless giving, an emptiness both dreaded and fruitful. It is dreaded for it demands a will open to divine guidance and it offers "no power, no success, no popularity, no easy satisfaction". But it is fruitful for can be a place of freedom - I can welcome anyone without condemnation and offer hope, as well as engender a liberating trust.

Each time we touch the sacred emptiness of non-demanding love, heaven and earth tremble, and there is great "rejoicing among the angels of God". It is the joy for the returning sons and daughters. It is the joy of spiritual fatherhood.

I believe Nouwen's poetic optimism will serve us well in the days to come as we combat terrorism without resorting to the foul means used by those who stand on the side of evil.

His invitation

In a recent time of contemplation, I could sense the Lord proposing my taking our relationship to another level. The lines of Christopher Marlowe's The Passionate Shepherd to His Love* came to me and this is my reply:

Artist Sieger Koder's take on the
Eternal Bridegroom who waits 
patiently for you and me,
His Beloved, to say yes. 

Draußen steht er an der Wand unseres Hauses

See, my beloved stands behind the wall

 Song of Songs 2:9

      

 Draußen steht er an der Wand unseres Hauses

I hear you call me to your side,
To live with you, in love abide.
Better or worse, to have and hold,
Your fragrant posies don't get old.

In valley lush, my gown lamb white,
No greater love could you incite,
The shepherd of my soul you are,
I'd follow you down byways far

We dance as one to madrigals,
Sip ruby wine as evening falls.
You gave your life for mine to keep,
A nuptial gift that makes me weep.

With you I fear no evil or
Cyclones that bring me to death's door.
Your hand in mine, we walk in light,
Darkness is vanquished by your might.

The hunger of the world we feed,
Your goodness swells in every deed.
Each harvest rich is sown in tears,
As we gather, I lose my fears.

Your passion moves me to proclaim
What's truth; a meme that's never lame,
Joy blossoms bright in fields of pain
When I say yes to you. Again.


*  http://www.bartleby.com/106/5.html

Tapping into the communion of saints

On my recent trip to Malta and Rome, it was such a thrill treading paths that saints once trod, being steps away from where miracles happened or standing in front of saints' relics, giving thanks for their lives and asking them to intercede for me in prayer.

Why I love saints is because they are real men and women who lived life passionately in love with God. While some had chequered and colourful pasts, all had their own peculiar struggles and situations. More significantly, they were all united in their unwavering love for our Creator. 

There is so much I can learn from these elder statesmen and stateswomen who reflect the goodness of God and brought much needed light into the world during the times they lived. They are like the constellations of stars that shine in the night skies, guiding travellers the right way forward in a uniquely beautiful and inspiring way. 

In every age we live, there is darkness, a darkness brought on by fear, hatred, envy, greed, and other abhorrent products from the failings of human nature. What do we do with the darkness? Do we live with it, tolerate it? Oftentimes I catch myself thinking that I am unable to change things so why try? But it is the responsibility of every human being to uphold justice and set right the wrongs we see before us. All the more if we call ourselves followers of Christ, we are called to be saints, people who bear an exceptional likeness to Jesus in thought, manner and action.

We are called to build His Church as Saint Francis of Assisi was tasked with, and we contribute as Saint Francis did, with a radical poverty of spirit, or in the quiet, ordinary way new Saints Louis and Zelie Martin did, by being good, hardworking citizens, raising five daughters who went on to serve God in religious communities, one of whom is a saint who has touched many with her Little Way of Love, Saint Teresa of the Child Jesus. It doesn't matter where we are in life, we can make a difference even in the most limiting of circumstances for the tipping point lies in our disposition of hearts.

Jesus chose ordinary, unschooled men to be His disciples. Even the women who followed Him were known sinners. He did not pick the most capable or the most courageous. He called people like you or me, not very remarkable, who come with our own faults and quirks, and all He asks is we say yes and leave the rest up to Him.

If we long to see His face, then we will eventually leave off from desiring worthless things and grow in holiness (today's psalm, 24). It takes time, much pruning and a whole lot of prayer, but we can be much more. We can always be much more, especially if we claim our identities as God's children (see 1 John 3:2), and on that identity alone we walk towards an unknown future, not without trepidation, but with faith in our steps and total reliance on a father who loves us very much.  

The Feast of All Saints is not just a celebration to commemorate our beloved saints, but it is a feast for the living, those who are on their way to sainthood, you and me. We can draw inspiration from the men and women who have gone before us, and we can continue the work they began. As we do what we need to, we can also pray for their intercession, to help us be more like them, so we can be as fearless and tireless in our endeavours as they were.

Happy All Saints.

Spacing out with Jesus

Over the weekend, my community of ICPE Companions met for our annual retreat and it was a huge sacred space where we welcomed Jesus, into our hearts, souls, minds and strengths, our lives, and received much.

We prayed, we listened, we praised, we worshipped, we broke bread together in the sharing of food and lives, we played, we laughed, and we were simply there for each other and God, and in so doing, we blessed each other and ourselves. Even those of us who could not make it were not forgotten and they were swept up with us in our communal prayer.

Besides taking community bond-building and my personal call to another level, it was a huge reminder of how imperative contemplation is for spiritual health. My spirit is bubbling over with joy today and to paraphrase Leonard Hofsteder's pick-up line in The Big Bang Theory, I am snapping, crackling and popping electric all because we sat together and listened to our Lord and our God.

Words are a poor vehicle to describe what I felt, and feel, and yet, they are all I have to share: that Jesus lives and walks among us, and He loves us, me, very, very much. The Good News experienced firsthand is indeed very, very Good.

He died for me so there is no reason to live otherwise than joyously and with vitality for I am redeemed, and thus I can rise up from the ashes of my woundedness, my disastrous past, and even my battle-scarred present, to new life, every new day. And what a life it can be.

The Gospel yesterday from Mark 10:46-52 was germane: If I am bold like blind Bartimaeus, and I can cast aside my perceived treasure (which is more encumbrance) to walk toward Jesus and ask for new sight, then He will respond. The reward is always restoration and a more precise vision and stouter heart to follow Him better.

My commitment to my spiritual growth has been renewed. It is clear that although my life will always be filled with activity, with demands on my time, space to be still, for me to listen to the Master's voice is necessary for emotional health, spiritual maturity and the stamina to keep up with Jesus. So my top priority for the future is to stay joyful by spacing out with Jesus.

Friday special

In the adoration room
Today she turned and smiled at me
Joy lighting up her flawless features
A cheeky sprite in a frothy mood

She was wonderfully made, fearless in spirit
She beckoned me to stay awhile
and play with her in eternity
We joined hands and knitted hearts
Our kindred souls sang as one voice
Of everlasting love, a kingdom found!
Together we sat at his feet the better part
Of the endless golden afternoon.
As we said goodbye we thanked each other
And the one who made it possible
For the communion of saints,
the forgiveness of sins
All glory be

Remembering her life
It was grand to gather five years on
To give thanks and celebrate her life
Sharing stories dusted with sparkling motes of joy,
Tears of gratitude beading the laughter.
We spoke of love, her tender heart,
How she heard the soft, unspoken cries
And bore them in compassionate hands
She comforted troubled hearts, and calmed
A sea of people for she opened doors that led
To bright futures and infinite possibilities.
There was her legendary hospitality, of course,
Popiah* parties and sumptuous new year spreads.
Tonight we got to sample yet again
Her mouthwatering popiah and yummy kai chok**
Gone but not forgotten, fondly remembered,
Her goodness lives on in those she loved

*  spring rolls extraordinaire
**  chicken congee

Ditching the funeral face with agape

It is not enough that we have the best of intentions towards people, and we sacrifice our own wants and needs in order to show care and concern. If we come across as negative, self-righteous, intrusively domineering, and we are altogether unpleasant to be around, our good deeds are lost, gone with the wind. All people will remember is the foul attitude, and they will turn and walk in the opposite direction when they see us approaching.

But she/he has a good heart! Sorry, that does not excuse the surliness or the caustic tongue. As Pope Francis put it, we cannot proclaim Jesus with a funeral face. Do-gooders, aka good Christians, have to attract people with their joie de vivre. Christ must shine through in their demeanours as well as in their good deeds.

So why is it that active Christians, missionary disciples, have such a hard time exuding sweetness and light as they go about doing good in the world? I have a couple of answers for I find myself guilty of a funeral face more than I would like.

One reason is I try to do too much. Finding the balance will always be tricky, but I cannot let tiredness derail all my good intentions and efforts. Sufficient rest and recreation is key. I must also be clear why I am doing what I am doing and to allow God's agape to flow into my heart when I make those exhausting and hard choices to love - so I can also stop perfecting things and let the Spirit lead.

The following stories from the Bible are cautionary tales and invite us to make the right choice with joy as well. The first is grumbling Martha who seeks redress from Jesus and instead gets told she frets about many things and thus loses sight of the better part (Luke chapter 10), and the other is the parable of the prodigal son (Luke chapter 15) whose elder brother is aggrieved by how their father celebrates the return of this ne'er-do-well brother whereas he has been there all along, slogging his guts out for the family business.

As Father Simon explained last week, the better part of Mary's contemplative attitude did not mean that Martha's active ministry was inferior, far from it. Both are necessary if we are serious about being followers of Christ. We are all called to be like Jesus, contemplatives in action.

What was the issue was that Martha had lost sight of what was truly important as she went about her ministry. She was too caught up in wanting things to be done a certain way, to elicit a certain response from people, that she lost the joy. Martha lost her agape, as did the elder son who himself became a prodigal interiorly in his inability to forgive his brother or to rejoice that his father, whom he loved, was ecstatic.

I relate. A lot. Having a sense of duty, a sense of right and wrong is not a bad thing. It is good to be responsible. I know how to walk the Christian talk. But when I begin to measure others against my own standards of acceptable behaviour, here is where I fall down. It is easy to feel resentment, and even envy, that I am losing out when I serve. Why am I not enjoying myself as others are? I fixate on small things and become small-minded. I compare and I grumble, like Martha.

Or because I have been trudging on for so long, I get a false sense of entitlement. I feel I am better than others, so I have earned the right to look down my nose at those around me, those sorry lot of sinners. I become the elder brother who is furious that his irresponsible sibling is being blessed by their father for doing nothing. And when my siblings actually backslide, or are insincere in their apologies, I go into a rage.

I forget I was a big sinner, like them, and I am still a sinner, even though I live in my Father's home. My Father forgives me every day and my elder brother, Jesus Christ, dies for me, the errant, younger sibling every day. Every day is Christmas, Good Friday and Easter. When I see the truth and open my heart to His agape, then I can live out agape the way He does.

Agape, or love, as Peter Kreeft defined in his essay, Love*, is more than a feeling and it comes from us, actively, by our free choice. And we must choose freely to love the concrete individual; who is often a choice that is inconvenient, stinking and begging.

Agape means we get up close and personal with people who hurt us frequently and disappoint us; who weary us with their inability to change; who have whiny, bitter and childish personalities we may actively dislike, and we accompany them in life, giving support and encouragement. Agape is love that goes beyond worth, beyond justice, beyond reason. It is to remain faithfully loving even in circumstances where there is no perceived discernible positive outcome (this is not an endorsement for co-dependency which is to be avoided). I like what Kreeft wrote:

Love is a flower, and hope is its stem. Salvation is the whole plant. God's grace, God's own life, comes into us by faith, like water through a tree's roots. It rises in us by hope, like sap through the trunk. And it flowers from our branches, fruit for our neighbor's use.

Kreeft goes on to describe how agape must be in spirit:

Faith is like an anchor. That's why it must be conservative, even a stick-in-the-mud, like an anchor. Faith must be faithful. Hope is like a compass or a navigator. It gives us direction, and it takes its bearings from the stars. That's why it must be progressive and forward-looking. Love is like the sail, spread to the wind. It is the actual energy of our journey. That's why it must be liberal, open to the Spirit's wind, generous.

Loving in this fashion is hard, as the elder brother or Martha found out, but worthwhile. I have found what Kreeft said to be true: When you give yourself away you find that a new and more real self has somehow been given to you.

So what really is the better part? How does it help us return to our Father's house when we stray? It is being able to say to Jesus in wonder and gratitude thank you for loving me so much. I don't know why you do, but, thank you. You make me feel special and I want to spread that special to someone else for something so precious has to be shared with everyone I know. I agree to be that little pencil in your hand, please use me as you will... Let agape flow and joy bring us home into the Father's embrace.

*  http://www.peterkreeft.com/topics/love.htm

In death new life begins

A death in the family is always a tragedy. Even if you were not particularly close to the departed, or harboured some ill will towards that person, there is a void in the universe, a palpable change, that affects you personally, and the family dynamics around you.

There are different ways of dealing with the loss. Some choose to ignore it, denying that this particular person has any influence on their life whatsoever, whether alive or dead.

Then there are others who let the grief turn inward. They bury it deep down and allow it to implode and emerge in anger and bitterness to the rest of the world, often targeting family members in explosive ways.

Grief takes on many forms and faces as well. For within the grief there is a complex mixture of sadness, regret, anger, remorse, emptiness, fear, bitterness, despair, relief and guilt, and so much more. All these very powerful emotions need to be acknowledged and processed, if not, we will remain forever stuck. And they will return and bite us later, causing us to behave in ways we least desire.

Often we grieve for 'selfish' reasons. It is our personal loss that concerns us. We can no longer see and interact with this person. There is a black hole of missing within us. Our chance to be loving and caring towards this person has disappeared. We can make amends no more, to right the wrongs we should've acted on earlier. While all this is normal, we can learn to look outward and parlay the grief into blessings of joy.

One way that works me is to honour that person by becoming a better person myself. All the qualities I admire in that person I can seek now to embody. I renew my efforts at being loving, caring, forgiving and less touchy. I become more committed to losing my baggage and, consequently, I am able to free myself from the chains of past hurts and resentments more quickly.

This is how in death there can be new life: the departed by his or her absence becomes a visible sign of redemption in the world because I choose to be life-giving. I can make reparation for my past failings by making good now, paying it forward and crediting the departed for my achievements.

It is no accident that I am connected by blood to the people who are in my family, immediate and extended. Instead of judging and complaining about their perceived shortcomings, and using this as an excuse for my own malaise and uncharitable impulses, I should try harder to see them in new ways and relate to them in new ways.

Change is possible for all things are possible with God. I have seen it happen these past days and I am awed by just how loving and merciful God has been during this time of bereavement.

My Third Aunt's passing has given me new insights into my family and my own immaturity in dealing with family. I am humbled by how it is only in her dying that I have come to see a different personality emerge, my Third Aunt's true self, uncontaminated by family history.

She had a big heart for the less privileged and fought for the underdog. She was unceasing in her efforts to reach out to others and help those who needed some form of assistance that she could render. As Father Simon declared during her funeral mass, Mother Mary would snap at Saint Peter to quit looking at my aunt's report card to assess her and offer her immediate access through the Pearly Gates for she is a shoo-in.

Thank you,Third Aunt, for the honour and privilege of accompanying you in your last days, and thank you for blessing the family with your deepest desire, unity. Thank you for loving me all these years and beyond. Even today, you have blessed me with your love. I was amazed, and I am grateful.

Thank you, Abba, for the gift of faith in my family for without it, we would all be lost.

Rest well, Third Aunt, and I hope to be just like you when I grow up.