Monthly Archives: October 2016

Knocking on Mary’s Door

Thursday of Week 27 in Ordinary Time (Year II)
Galatians 3:1-5 | Luke 1:69-75 | Luke 11:5-13


So I say to you: Ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you. (Luke 11:9)

I couldn’t resist the invitation to talk about my recent trip to the Knock Shrine in Ireland. In short, it was one of the high points of my UK tour.

My smartphone camera had been working splendidly all through the tour, but the very first photo I took in Knock, of the cross that marked Pope John Paul II’s visit to the shrine in 1979, knocked it out of commission.

This plaque has major smartphone powers.

This plaque has major smartphone powers.

Or the cross to which it was attached. Or both.

Or the cross to which it was attached. Or both.

It took a good five minutes for it to recover, and it hasn’t locked up since. Perhaps it was a reminder to be still and know the presence of the Almighty.

And while the apparition itself was silent…

L to R: St. Joseph, Mother Mary, St. John the Evangelist, Agnus Dei, adoring angels

L to R: St. Joseph, Mother Mary, St. John the Evangelist, Agnus Dei, adoring angels

…the people who beheld it back in 1879 were not, reciting the Rosary over and over for two hours. That’s the sort of devotion that Our Lady has always asked of us.

And they aren't shy about reminding you.

And they aren’t shy about reminding you.

The entire shrine reminded me of Fátima, another shrine that I have a lot of love for. There’s the same sense of sprawling silence, plenty of space to just sit and experience God in the whisper of the plentiful winds. Quite unlike the crowded and often noisy Lourdes, these are excellent places for quiet contemplation of the divine.

No physical or spiritual crowding here, for sure.

No physical or spiritual crowding here, for sure.

Just beautiful time and space.

Just beautiful time and space.

Speaking of divine, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the flowers. Oh, the flowers!

Tell me God didn't have a hand in this.

Tell me God didn’t have a hand in this.

I dare ya.

I dare ya.

Actually, I double-dare ya.

Wait, I double-dare ya.

But in the end, it’s the spiritual communion with my fellow travellers and others from around the world that matters most.

Lest we forget why we came.

Lest we forget why we came.

Amen.

On the Slow Train to Christian Self-Healing

Wednesday of Week 27 in Ordinary Time (Year II)
Galatians 2:1-2,7-14 | Psalm 116:1-2 | Luke 11:1-4


When I saw they were not respecting the true meaning of the Good News, I said to Cephas in front of everyone, ‘In spite of being a Jew, you live like the pagans and not like the Jews, so you have no right to make the pagans copy Jewish ways.’ (Galatians 2:14)

I deal with several Catholic folks on a liturgical and personal basis, who can be deliberately and painfully blunt to the point of being rude and hurtful. When I ask them why they behave this way, their reply is invariably, “This is what I am, I can’t change.”

 

It’s awfully tempting to swat them like St. Paul rebuked St. Peter for his hypocrisy, but their targets tend to shrug off such behaviour, and their rudeness seems to be tied to familiarity; they’ve invariably polite with strangers, but with their friends, it’s “hey, idiot!”

More distressingly, I’ve caught myself doing the same thing with a friend of my best friend. We’ve found that she seems to be forever planning what to say next without actually listening to what we’re trying to tell her, so we end up having to rephrase the same message several times until it sinks in, and when she restates what she thinks we said, it often exactly opposes our original message. Achieving a common understanding is usually a vexing exercise, and we’ve lost our temper with her quite often.

It’s the same story with some of my clients, with whom I usually communicate in my less-than-fluent Mandarin. Quite often, I end up struggling to think of the needed phrases, and then I get rather loud when the ones I come up with don’t quite get my point across. Worse, I tend to speed up my words for some reason, which just exacerbates the communications problem.

I’m sure all of us have areas in our lives where we do what actually opposes our conscience, out of a sense of conformity (“better not stick out, otherwise everything will think I’m being holier-than-thou”) or insecurity (“better play ball, boss is looking to fire people”). Perhaps today, we can start looking at one area in our lives that needs some Christian fine-tuning, and make a small but sustainable adjustment, instead of a zealous about-face that we may not be able to keep up in the long term.

After all, as my travelling spiritual director Fr. Paul Staes reminded me in his October 1st homily, “the saints too had their earthly faults, but it didn’t stop them from striving to be better each day.”

In my case, I’ll be looking at breathing more deeply and often when speaking with my clients, in an effort to reduce my heart rate and frustration level. Perhaps I should also try to draw diagrams to better get my point across.

Beyond that…well, let’s take it one day at a time.

Lord, you know we are imperfect beings. Give us the hope that we can be better each day, the determination to work on our holiness, and the patience to take one sustainable step at a time. Amen.

Travelling Light in Life

Tuesday of Week 27 in Ordinary Time (Year II)
Saint Francis of Assisi
Galatians 1:13-24 | Psalm 138:1-3,13-15 | Luke 10:38-42


But the Lord answered: ‘Martha, Martha,’ he said ‘you worry and fret about so many things, and yet few are needed, indeed only one. It is Mary who has chosen the better part; it is not to be taken from her.’ (Luke 10:41-42)

I’m just back from a Catholic tour of the UK, visiting various shrines and churches in Ireland, Scotland and England. As is the case for all my travels, I packed a few quick-dry shirts, a few pants, some quick-dry underwear (which I wash daily in the hotel sink), socks for each day…and a spray-bottle of alcohol to deodorize the shirts and pants, so that I can wear them for up to a week without causing offence to others. All this and my standard toiletries fit in half a standard carry-on bag.

My online travel life is similarly bare, basically just uploading the content for each blog entry at night (to save time, I usually write them on the coach while moving from point to point), checking for critical server emails, and some messaging to friends and family. I ignore everything else, mostly because I generally don’t have Internet access till we check in to our hotel rooms each night.

Not only did this sparsity make for a refreshing trip, it also gave me time to ponder God’s love in His daily word, and His majesty in the cathedrals, shrines and other man-made reflections of His glory. All room and board were prearranged, so I just ate, drank and lived in the God-given moment. Oh, and I prayed a LOT more than usual.

I’m not sure how much sparsity I can adopt in my daily life, but the refreshing effects are a great motivator. Already, I decided not to re-borrow some library books I’d returned before the trip, because I probably wouldn’t read them anyway. I’ll also be looking at unsubscribing from a ton of technical email newsletters that I barely glance at any more, plus a whole bunch more housekeeping and looking into ways to tap on the expertise of other folks in my work life, so that I don’t have to know it all.

A few less things to worry about, and a little more time to ponder my relationship with God. Sweet.

Lord, You said that few things are needed in our lives. Help us let go of the unnecessary complexity and embrace the simplicity of Your Way that is Truth and Life, so that we in turn may convince others by example to turn to You in their daily lives too. Amen.

Come Closer

Monday of Week 27 in Ordinary Time (Year II)
Galatians 1:6-12 | Psalm 110:1-2,7-10 | Luke 10:25-37


I watched a rather profound movie on the flight home yesterday from my UK Catholic tour titled Eye in the Sky. Briefly, it paints a plausible picture of all the political and military workings behind initiating and executing a drone strike against terrorist targets in rural Kenya. In brief, a innocent little girl dies selling homemade bread at a makeshift stall near the strike zone, and no one directly involved is left emotionally untouched afterwards.

I was surprised to find a parallel between the characters in that movie and today’s Gospel, the oh-so-familiar Parable of the Good Samaritan. All the political and military characters involved in prosecuting the drone strike were depicted as calculating but not cold, honestly trying to do the right thing when faced with live footage of suicide bombers gearing up to wreak havoc in unknown locations, constantly finding ways to balance the immediate threat of the evildoers with the collateral damage of the strike.

The trouble was they deliberately kept their mental distance from the problem at hand, choosing to talk in terms of political capital and strategy. As one adviser put it: “If Al-Shabab kill 80 people we win the propaganda war. If we kill one they do.

Similarly, we’re so used to thinking of the Levite and the priest in the parable as uncaring people, and it’s clearly stated that both veered off their intended path to avoid coming close to the victim, but nothing in the Gospel suggests they didn’t at least say a prayer for the unfortunate victim in passing. I’m sure we all know folks like that, preferring not to get personally involved but ever-willing to pray for the unfortunate and perhaps make a donation or two. We may even be like that ourselves.

In contrast, the Samaritan literally got his hands dirty, binding and anointing the victim’s wounds, and going the extra mile to ensure the victim got every chance at full recovery, even though he was considered a pariah. No one would’ve batted an eyelid if he’d passed on the other side too, but he chose otherwise.

One of the minor characters in Eye in the Sky was a local intelligence agent who ran the camera drones that showed the terrorists’ activities inside their safehouse. It turned out that he was a known government sympathizer to the rebels who were guarding the terrorists, but he was also moved to remove the little girl from the blast zone by any means necessary. He first tried to buy all her bread himself so that she could go home early, but that blew his cover and he barely escaped the chasing rebels. Undaunted, he then bribed a young boy to do the same, which eventually worked. His anguish, when he found out that she died anyway because he was just a little too late, was palpable.

I think we sometimes fail to act because we fear the potential for making matters worse, or being emotionally involved, or being sucked into a long-term support relationship. Let us take our first steps today toward drawing nearer to others in need and helping them through direct action, secure in the hope that God will help us deal with our fears and guide our actions for the better.

Father, may we do Your will on earth, as it is in heaven. Amen.

Stir Into Flame

27th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year C)
Habakkuk 1:2-3,2:2-4 | Psalm 94:1-2,6-9 | 2 Timothy 1:6-8,13-14 | Luke 17:5-10

I am reminding you to fan into a flame the gift that God gave you when I laid my hands on you. God’s gift was not a spirit of timidity, but the Spirit of power, and love, and self-control. (2 Timothy 1:6-7)

Power, love, self-control. Not unmitigated zeal.

The faithful who practice sidewalk counseling outside abortion clinics are zealous, no doubt, but it’s very easy to cross the line into personal harassment and public shaming of women at a vulnerable juncture in their lives.

It’s much more effective to counsel in a quiet, non-judgemental and one-on-one basis, and that works for many subjects besides abortion. Unfortunately, many of us aren’t in a position to talk to our friends and acquaintances in this fashion, because we don’t know enough to even talk coherently about the subject at hand beyond “don’t do it, it’s a sin, you’ll go to hell,” and we dread the inevitable question “so what should I do then?” So we keep silent, and our loved ones take a deep dive into a personal hell.

Just recently, a friend complained to me that a certain Dominican priest keeps talking about Catholic principles instead of giving her straight answers about specific situations. I think I annoyed her when I agreed with that priest, but I learned an important lesson early in my consulting career: If you’re not me, it’s really hard to understand where I’m coming from. Even if you were relentless in your questioning, you’re still likely to miss some important details that introduce complications into what you think is a simple situation, but for me is a life-ending disaster. If I then acted on your advice in blind faith, I risk making my situation even worse. You might also annoy me so much with your probing that I shut you out, thus defeating your efforts.

It’s much better to begin by learning more about the tenets of Catholicism, to be more involved in our common faith, and not just stopping at a mechanical presence at church each Sunday. That way, we have the power of sacred knowledge that enables us to act in love, while exerting the confident self-control to guide others gently towards a better understanding of their situation, and potential solutions that would keep them on the way of Truth and Life.