Monday, March 23, 2009

Light vs Darkness (Jn 3:14 - 21)

It is strange how this Sun's gospel reading (Mar 22) reminded me of my own conversion story. Although I have shared it so often with people, but this is the first time I'm putting it down in writing. Have you ever find yourself sleeping in late in the morning, only to be awaken by the strong sunlight hitting at your eyes. The feeling is horrible, isn't it - adjusting to the light? But well, it only means = time to wake up!

Having completed my confirmation class in Sec 2, i thought a certain phase in my life is finally "over & done with!" Being the "introvert me" didn't quite help either, since I do not have a Christian community to belong. Naturally, it didn't take long before I de-generated to a Sunday Catholic and the final retired Catholic. Yes, i still remember the initial nagging feeling whenever I missed Sunday mass. But it didn't take long for me to become numb to this "other voice", until it is gradually heard no more. Not going for mass becomes a way of life. A more productive alternative could be used with this time - e,g, study. Of course, this is the clever me at work, coming up with creative excuses.

It was not until in JC 2, when two of my classmates, Alex & Geralding invited me for a retreat with them in CJC that I finally "come to the light". I still recall Geralding inviting me in JC 1 but was turned down by me. I still do not know why, what or how did I agree to this ridiculous offer to attend the retreat in Yr 2. I recall thinking to myself "What can a retreat do to you?" But that fateful retreat showed me all the difference.

It was there, that someone played the audio version of the Passion of Christ. That nailing, panting, suffering, wailing drowned me as I find myself overwhelmed by God's love. Who could this man be, who could be so madly in love with me? And the inevitable & consequential question arise : and Who am I? How can I deserve this love?

The reading today reminded me that this light of God is not here to burn/scorge me. For Christ came to save, not to condemn. What I first experienced in my conversion was not one of guilt, but of unconditional love. This light of Christ comes to awaken me - to my senses; to a love I have previously know only with my head but not my heart. And it is only in this light and understanding, did I realise how far I haved sinned. For to sin is to miss the mark. Indeed, I have gone way off tangent on the course in my life. Thanks to my wonderful friends who have been the light for me, It is now my turn to be the light for others.

But what kind of light will I be? One to condemn (burn) or to save (awaken)? I pray that my conversion will serve to remind & humble me that I was once in darkness. It is in that darkness that I appreciated the light.


It only takes a spark to get a fire going,
And soon all those around can warm up in its glowing;
That's how it is with God's Love,
Once you've experienced it,
Your spread the love to everyone
You want to pass it on.


~ Lyrics from the song, "Pass It On"

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Cleansing in the Temple (Jn 2: 13- 25)

Anger may not always be a necessary evil. Well, at least this is something new which I learned from Fr. Michael McGuire, a trained psycho-therapist. Anger represents hope. A hope to change things, a hope for the better. My good friend, Friar Derrick reminded me in a session recently, that we often feel angry because of a sense of justice. Something that rightfully belongs to us/someone is suddenly taken away. And we demand/hope that this is corrected.

We see this taking place in today's (Mar 15) Gospel - the Cleansing in the Temple. I often wonder if Jesus was angry with 1) the idea of the selling, 2) the exhorbitant prices that were unreasonably set &/or 3) the exploitation of the poor (since they do not seem to have a choice - they need to buy something to be used as an offering). In some ways, all these seem to point towards a fundamental abuse of trust & exploitation. And to make matters worse, of all places - the Christian family, the dwelling place of God. Today, I wonder if the very same church is still acting like a market place? Am I also guilty, among those counted in the mercenary traders?

Looking back at my journey in ministry, there were definitely times when 1) the ideas/projects that I "sold" were more self-serving than following the Spirit's directive, 2) I set/expect high standards for one to qualify as member of the ministry (e.g. 90% attendance in the year, including exam period), 3) members were given the ultimatium to adhere to our ministry rules or leave the ministry (members should not "use" ministry only for their emotional support). Often I can & do forget the reason why people join ministry in the first place! They come for worship - a heart-to-heart prayer with God. Coming to Him with all their being, and without pretense. That is who they are and that is what they can offer - all that they have : 2 copper coins. One would expect the church to welcome them with open arms, but I can be that mercenary trader outside, turning a prodigal child away.

So today, instead of channeling my anger towards others, I also need to take a look at myself. Maybe, I need to be angry with myself first. I need to turn this energy to a constructive desire for a positive change. That change that may restore me to my original, rightful state - made in the image & likenes of God. Only then, can I truly live out to be a channel of hope for others.

"Then David's anger was greatly kindled against the man; and he said to Nathan, "As the LORD lives, the man who has done this deserves to die; and he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity."

Nathan said to David, "You are the man. Thus says the LORD, the God of Israel, 'I anointed you king over Israel, and I delivered you out of the hand of Saul; and I gave you your master's house, and your master's wives into your bosom, and gave you the house of Israel and of Judah; and if this were too little, I would add to you as much more. Why have you despised the word of the LORD, to do what is evil in his sight?"

- 2 Sam 12 : 5 - 9

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

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