Monthly Archives: March 2017

1st Sunday of Lent (Year A)
Genesis 2:7-9,3:1-7 | Psalm 50(51):3-6,12-14,17 | Romans 5:12-19 | Matthew 4:1-11

Today’s Gospel recounts the temptation of Christ in the desert. I experienced what should’ve been a severe temptation yesterday, but an Lenten act unexpectedly “saved” me.

As I mentioned in a recent blog post, I’m fasting Ramadan-style throughout this Lent. One side-effect is that I’m actually less hungry during the day than I was even before Lent, as the lack of water input quietens my growling stomach. I now understand how Muslims can keep this up for a whole month; it’s really less stressful on the body than fasting with water.

Anyway, my old friend asked me to meet him at Marina Bay Sands today, instead of our usual cafe haunt. When I asked why, he just said that he wanted to check out something before our usual Saturday meeting.

So I met him at the appointed place, only to discover that he was headed to a food expo, the kind where both of us usually run riot in, sampling pretty much all the wares on display.

OK, I thought, this should be a good test of my Lenten resolve.

It turned out to be a cakewalk (pun intended), to my (and my friend’s) surprise.

You see, one other side-effect I’d only just realized is that my fast left my mouth and nose in a rather dry state, and that muted my ability to smell.

Aromatic coffee all around? Nah, I barely sensed it.

Fragrant tea leaves that I would’ve craved a cuppa of? Nope, not doing anything for me.

So to our collective amusement, my friend went round sampling the teas and coffees, while I followed in his wake, looked with interest at all the wares on display, and politely declined everything that was offered.

But both of us skipped all the free luscious cakes and ice creams, as well as the sweet sodas and fried starches for the taking. Neither one of us wanted to walk down that sugar-laden road.

✞ ✞ ✞ ✞ ✞

I may not be experiencing now the sort of hunger Jesus suffered, but I did in my previous years’ seasonal fasts, and I have some idea of the unbearable cravings the body develops after such a long fast.

But this year is different. This time around, I’ve found a way to “die to myself” without the sort of literal gut-wrenching I experienced in years past.

This time, I can refuse to partake in the midst of incredible temptation, yet still be content. After all, Lent is a time to reflect, renew and reconcile, not turn into a miserable git through pious suffering.

As today’s scripture says:

Man does not live on bread alone
but on every word that comes from the mouth of God. (Matthew 4:4)

Amen.

Saturday after Ash Wednesday
Isaiah 58:9-14 | Psalm 85(86):1-6 | Luke 5:27-32

The Pharisees and their scribes complained to his disciples and said, ‘Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?’ Jesus said to them in reply, ‘It is not those who are well who need the doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the virtuous, but sinners to repentance.’ (Luke 5:30-32)

Every day, when I travel by train or bus, I notice a stark similarity amongst nearly all my fellow passengers: they all look really glum, like they’re carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders.

Even if they were locked away in their own universe, isolated by their headphones and whatever was mesmerizing them on their personal devices, the corners of their mouths were invariably turned down.

Those who were simply looking around them were similarly wreathed in metaphorical dark clouds, strained brows brooding over God knows what.

The only exceptions were those who were travelling in groups. Those folks were chatting happily with each other, and it mattered not if they were young or old. They had company, and their spirits were thus lifted.

✞ ✞ ✞ ✞ ✞

We’ve long heard the old saw that the worst way to die is alone. We see it on TV, or perhaps even in person: people young and old, glumly trudging through their lonely days, finding neither joy nor support.

I can’t imagine anyone wanting to experience that, yet I see unhappy people every day, buried in their own concerns, locked away in their own universes.

✞ ✞ ✞ ✞ ✞

Lately, I’ve been feeling warm around my shoulders at random times, despite the unnaturally chilly days we’re currently experiencing. I might be imagining things, but I’d like to think that what I’m feeling is the loving arm of Christ wrapping me in a hug, just like my old friend used to urge me on to our next destination (he’s quite a bit taller than I, so it’s really difficult for me to return the favour).

It’s a comforting feeling, that He’s willing to spend time with me, a sinner.

I’d like others to feel it too.

Will you reach out to Him, and let Him embrace you?

Will you spend time in His company, and let Him spend time in yours?

He is always there, hearing every prayer
Faithful and true
Walking by our side, in His love we hide
All the day through

When you get discouraged, just remember what to do
Reach out to Jesus, He’s reaching out to you

Amen.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=etvak8dIxBY

Friday after Ash Wednesday
Isaiah 58:1-9 | Psalm 50(51):3-6,18-19 | Matthew 9:14-15

‘Why should we fast if you never see it,
why do penance if you never notice?’
Look, you do business on your fast-days,
you oppress all your workmen;
look, you quarrel and squabble when you fast
and strike the poor man with your fist.
Fasting like yours today
will never make your voice heard on high. (Isaiah 58:3-4)

Over the last two years, I’ve fasted through the whole season of Lent, skipping lunch every day and moderating breakfast and dinner.

It was always a rough journey; I found myself occasionally sneaking in a tea-time pineapple tart (Lent and Chinese New Year are often coincident), and getting rather snippy with others in my hunger.

This year, I’m doing a Ramadan-style fast instead, arising before dawn for a small breakfast, then not consuming anything till sundown, not even water. Paradoxically, though I’m consuming even less than in the previous years, I’ve not felt paralyzing hunger during the day at all, I’m not tempted by sweet treats, and I’m as pleasant to others as I normally am after a typical session of good food.

The only problem: now that I don’t drink during the day, I sport a bad case of “dragon breath” when meeting with my clients. I just have to make sure I sit a little farther from them…and pack a travel toothbrush for regular mouth-cleaning.

✞ ✞ ✞ ✞ ✞

Isaiah reminds us that fasting becomes a perversion if it only makes us worse human beings that we were before we began. If fasting turns us into ogres, better not to fast at all.

Or perhaps we could take a look at why fasting turns us onto ogres. For me, I finally realized that the water I was drinking during my previous fasts actually “reactivated” my stomach, causing it to begin churning and demanding sustenance.

And I was drinking a lot of water during those days, in a misguided belief that I needed to “flush out toxins” and assuage my hunger while I was fasting. With this new regimen, no one I deal with daily can tell that I’m fasting…except my business and lunch partner, whom I had to inform for obvious reasons.

✞ ✞ ✞ ✞ ✞

The sacrifices we make during this Lenten season have to count for something. We should not simply go through the motions, especially when they’re turning us into terrible children of God.

We should instead indulge in a healthy dose of introspection, carefully scrutinising ourselves inside and out. “Am I becoming a better child of God, for all that I’m doing this Lent?” should be our daily examen.

Lord, as we sacrifice ourselves to the greater good this Lent, give us a watchful eye on our words and deeds, an honest disposition to acknowledge when our faithful actions turn bad, and the fortitude to bear our cross and follow You always. Amen.

Thursday after Ash Wednesday
Deuteronomy 30:15-20 | Psalm 1:1-4,6 | Luke 9:22-25

If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross every day and follow me. (Luke 9:23)

Jesus is recorded in all three Synoptic gospels as having uttered this proclamation, but it is only in Luke’s gospel that he emphasizes that we should take up our crosses and follow Him every day.

Not just on Ash Wednesday.

Not just on Good Friday.

Not just by abstinence on every Friday either.

Every day.

We are called to “fast” from harsh words and unfair judgements every day.

We are called to “abstain” from excessive indulgence in worldly pleasures every day.

We are called to “sacrifice” unnecessary comforts, and put effort and resources towards supporting the needy and helpless among us every day.

We are, in fact, called to “die to ourselves”, for that is what “taking up our cross” really means.

For anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but anyone who loses his life for my sake, that man will save it. (Luke 9:24)

Lent is merely a convenient time to reflect on this Truth, and to commit to it every day.

Lord Jesus Christ, you called us to die to our sinful selves, to discard the trappings of worldly wealth and adulation, and go Your Way. Help us to see Your Way, help us to plant our feet on Your Way, and help us to reach out our hands to others to guide them on Your Way. For Your Way leads to eternal life, and the redemption of all our souls. Amen.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q_8meTmJZxo

Ash Wednesday
Joel 2:12-18 | Psalm 50(51):3-6,12-14,17 | 2 Corinthians 5:20-6:2 | Matthew 6:1-6,16-18

Today, we begin our Lenten fast from all things that we would enjoy to excess.

Today, we turn our thoughts especially to who we are called to be: faithful followers of Christ.

But today, we also continue with our daily lives, not calling attention to our abstinence from that which distracts us, and which draws us away from the quiet inward voice that calls us to holiness.

✞ ✞ ✞ ✞ ✞

I quite enjoy Lent now, not so much from the physical weight that I’ll be fasting away each day, but especially from the things I’d have to focus on, to take my mind away from my gnawing hunger:

• My daily work, which has suffered somewhat from the perennial distraction of good food
• My daily exercise, ramped up to counter my hungry body’s urge to cannibalise my muscles
• My daily resistance to temptation, which my oldest and dearest friend has promised to continue supplying in moderation (the same one who poked another Catholic publicly with “lobster is abstinence?”)
• My daily reflection, which will likely center on “what have I, now that I have not?”

All this, while obeying Jesus’ command to “put oil on your head and wash your face, so that no one will know you are fasting except your Father who sees all that is done in secret” (Matthew 6:16-17).

OK, maybe not the “oil on head” bit.

Amen.