M&M (Mercy & Mission)

Every now and then, IF we pay CLOSE attention, we will realise how we have been embraced by the gracious and salient visit of God. At least this was what happened to me recently - a surprise reminder from a friend, and a badly needed silence from a retreat. Both experiences allowed me to identify with Sun's reading (Lk 18: 9 - 14) which falls on Mission Sunday in the Catholic Church.

Few months back, I got a surprise message from my friend, Grace, who asked me why I haven't been updating my blog? Usual excuses were given : been busy upgrading from free-lance to full time ministry, haven't got time to blog. But the real problem is this : the failure to go deeper in prayer and be aware of the ever presence (present) of our Lord, Himself. And hence, this blog like my soul, remain choked and overgrown with the thorns/bristles and cares of the world.


But the reminder did NOT stop. Over this weekend, I went for a retreat and was reminded on the precious gift of gratitude. During part of the retreat, I needed to step out to give a session on the New Testament to a particular ministry. Just the week before, this ministry had a talk on the Old Testament by Verbum Dei, a religious order whose mission was to proclaim the Word of God. All the members of that religious order has a bachelor in Sacred Theology and was more than qualified to give the talk. But me - who am I to proclaim His word, what insight can I offer? An overwhelming sense of unworthiness swept over me - why did I even say yes to this session? why did the Lord chose me, of all people? I prayed only to be reminded from the passage of 1 Cor 1:26 - 29

"Consider, brothers, how you were called; not many of you are wise by human standards, not many influential, not many from noble families. No, God chose those who by human standards are fools to shame the wise; he chose those who by human standards are weak to shame the strong, those who by human standards are common and contemptible -- indeed those who count for nothing -- to reduce to nothing all those that do count for something, so that no human being might feel boastful before God."

I can only identified with the tax collector in Sun's reading - "have mercy on me, Lord, a sinner" As I reflected on my experience in the retreat, it slowly melt away to a new sense of awe and humility at the graciousness of our Lord. The session was meant not for the ministry, but for me! It is not the qualified who is chosen but the chosen who is qualified by the Lord. No words can explain the "why me?"s, no efforts could "earn" this qualification. I can only accept this gracious gift of being forgiven and chosen by the Lord, like the tax collector.

And the acceptance of this gift has filled me with insurmontable gratitude, to which the only response can only be that of mission. Like the Psalmist who cannot remain silent, I can only share and proclaim the generosity and unconditional love of our Lord. I am thus grateful to be able to write again in this blog. To all those who have given me insight, reminders and support to this experience, I can only say : "Mer-ci" (thank you in french).

A precious story pictures a mother pleading with Napoleon to spare her condemned son's life. The emperor said the crime was dreadful; justice demanded his life. "Sir," sobbed the mother, "Not justice, but mercy." "He does not deserve mercy," was the answer. "But, sir, if he deserved it, it would not be mercy," said the mother. "Ah yes, how true," said Napoleon. "I will have mercy."

The Transfiguration (Mk 9 : 2 - 10)

One fine day, my 2 year old nephew looked to the altar & started saying "strawberry". We were puzzled by what he has just uttered. Where on earth would you find a strawberry at the altar?!! My sis-in-law and I stared blankly at each other. But on closer look, this picture (on your left) does show some resemblance of a strawberry from afar. Yes, it is none other than the sacred heart of Jesus!

This little funny incident indeed taught me a thing or two about contemplation. Contemplation invites us to look beyond the physical or what we know, and enter into the presence of the divine. As a child, many things appear to us as strawberries - our image of God, our understanding of Him, our prayer, the Mass etc. And here, I must admit that I'm still very much like a child when it comes to faith. Every time I think I know enough about God, I'm once again challenged with regards to our relationship & roles. It is not knowing about Him but knowing Him in that intimate & personal level which He constantly invites.

In some way, taking care of little children has opened my eyes about the need for child-like, simple faith. Silly as it may sound, but once a child learns a new thing, they relate everything in that context. In this instance, how could the Sacred Heart look like a strawberry? But imagine the potential of relating to the world, if I could but grasp the love & beauty of God in each person. What will the world become? How would I behave, if I am able to relate in this child-like simplicity? Will this world indeed become the reign of the kingdom that Jesus was here to preach about? For He says time and time again : the kingdom of God is at hand => so near & yet so far. All I need is to let go of all my "think I know everything" mature faith and to embrace the faith of a little child.

Today's Gospel (Mar 8) shows us a glimpse of the power of prayer & contemplation. The transfiguration is not an easy topic to apply in our daily living. I borrow the concept from Fr. Raniero Cantalamessa in his book, "The Mystery of the Transfiguration". In this book, he mention about the power of contemplation that transforms Jesus from within (rather than without). Contemplative prayer, reflection, allows us to search within ourselves so that we may come to know God as He sees us. What follows is a deep sense of feeling loved, secured which empowers us to look & react at the world in a different light.

"In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers. It was like waking from a dream of separateness, of spurious self-isolation in a special world, the world of renunciation and supposed holiness...This sense of liberation from an illusory difference was such a relief and such a joy to me that I almost laughed out loud. And I suppose my happiness could have taken form in the words: “Thank God, thank God that I am like other men, that I am only a man among others.”...I have the immense joy of being man, a member of a race in which God Himself became incarnate. And if only everybody could realize this! But it cannot be explained. There is no way of telling people that they are all walking around shining like the sun...Then it was as if I suddenly saw the secret beauty of their hearts, the depths of their hearts where neither sin nor desire nor self-knowledge can reach, the core of their reality, the person that each one is in God’s eyes. If only they could all see themselves as they really are. If only we could see each other that way all the time. There would be no more war, no more hatred, no more cruelty, no more greed…I suppose the big problem would be that we would fall down and worship each other. But this cannot be seen, only believed and “understood” by a peculiar gift."

~ Thomas Merton, Conjectures of A Guilty Bystander