Monthly Archives: June 2019

A Quiet Night and a Perfect End

Posted on June 30, 2019 | 1 comment

13th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year C)
1 Kings 19:16,19-21 | Psalm 15(16):1-2,5,7-11 | Galatians 5:1,13-18 | Luke 9:51-62

Another to whom he said, ‘Follow me’, replied, ‘Let me go and bury my father first.’ But he answered, ‘Leave the dead to bury their dead; your duty is to go and spread the news of the kingdom of God.’

Luke 9:59-60

Over the years, I’d always assumed that the disciple-to-be was waiting for his father to pass, then he’d offer a quick funeral and then join Jesus. Either that, or he was about to send his father off, and needed a day’s “leave”.

Then I read Burial Practices in First Century Palestine, and my understanding changed completely. Now, I see a man grieving his just-departed father, telling Jesus that he needed to wait years for his father’s body to decompose, so that he can remove the bones from the family tomb and inter them in an ossuary. (We Singaporeans do much the same thing, just sped up with fire.) Jesus in turn tells him to delegate the hideously-long process to someone else, and follow Him NOW.

This Bible passage is now much more relatable. If anyone accepts a position, but asks their employer to wait for a few years before actually starting work…well, they’d be out of a job right there and then. “Thick-skinned” is probably the mildest reaction one could expect.

All this flashed through my mind as I held the hand of a dear friend, now spending her days in a hospice. I remembered all the years she spent spreading joy to the many people she met, starting each day in communion with the God we both love. In a very real way, she embodied the New Commandment that Jesus Himself gave us: Love one another as I have loved you. The crowds of visitors she receives each day testifies to the love that she shared, “rebounding” back on her.

And it became very clear what today’s Gospel message is: Follow Me NOW, for you have no say on when, where and how your life will end. God will call us home on His schedule, not ours. It’s pure folly to defer our Christian duty to love and proclaim the Good News, till our retirement or some other convenient time of our choosing. If we “have no time” now, we may well end up suddenly dying in an accident or other calamity, meeting our Creator with nothing to show for the faith we claim.

Even if our lives didn’t come to an abrupt end, it’s also silly to assume that we’d have the faculties to do our Christian duty in the little time left to us. I’ve seen too many people whose minds went early (stroke patients), and though I always pray that God will grant me the continued ability to literally sing His praises till my dying day, I know that this isn’t my decision to make.

Dear friends, when we “signed on” as Catholics, our duties started right there and then. Putting them off for years on end, so that we can do life My Way, is exactly like telling your boss, “wait hor, I’ll get around to it in a few decades…maybe”.

Even if we have the purest of intentions, and are simply delaying our apostolizing to a more comfortable point in time, we may well find ourselves the subject of Dylan Thomas’ most famous poem, mere shells of human beings desperately clinging to our mortal existence because we still have so much to make up for:

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

That’s just…sad.

I’m sure, though, that my friend has no such fears. She didn’t wait to share the Gospel message in word and deed, and continued to do so even as she fought the illness that has now laid her very low. Even today, when her bouts of consciousness are few and far between, she’ll still briefly smile a greeting when she sees a familiar face, before dozing off again.

The concluding benediction of the Divine Office’s Compline (night) prayer is a perfect summary of her current position:

The Lord grant us a quiet night and a perfect end. Amen.

If we too seek a peaceful passage to eternal life, we should start doing NOW what we promised in faith, and not put it off any longer.

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Posted in Daily Reflections

Divine Office FAQ (June 2019)

Posted on June 26, 2019 | Leave a comment

These questions fell out of a recent series of talks on praying the Liturgy of the Hours, at which I was an “assistant tutor”.

Q: Why is it recommended to use the Everyday Prayer book instead of a Divine Office app or web site?

It isn’t. I personally use the Universalis mobile app whenever I travel, just so I can have each day’s mass readings and Liturgy of the Hours without extra weight, bulk or Internet charges.

Now, paper tends to be more useful, once you get used to flipping back and forth:

  • Some electronic versions don’t have accent marks to indicate syllabic stresses, which are very useful when chanting.
  • You may be in a place where electronic devices are not permitted.
  • Screens can be hard on the eyes.
  • Books don’t run out of battery, or crash in the middle of prayer.

Then again, there’s no flipping needed for apps, and you can pray in the dark with a smartphone.

Use whatever makes more sense to you, just start praying.

Q: I have no time to pray even twice a day. What can I do?

Do NOT skip the first Hour of the day. Lauds (morning) and Vespers (evening) are the two hinges on which the rest of the Divine Office hangs. Imagine a door to eternal life, with Lauds representing the top hinge, and Vespers the bottom one.

If you religiously pray Lauds, that starts you off each day on a Godly note. Then, if your day ends so late that you are too tired to pray Vespers, that’s like a door missing its bottom hinge: It’s not as stable as one with both hinges intact, but it still swings properly with a little care.

If you decide to skip Lauds…a door that’s missing its top hinge will soon twist right off the bottom one and fall flat, constantly battered by temptations and distractions, and upended by daily cares.

(For added assurance, add more hinges…er…Hours.)

Q: I’m having trouble finding the motivation to pray the Divine Office. What can I do?

Play to win, so that you can pray to win. Or, “proper preparation prevents poor performance.” Waking up and staggering past an empty altar is no way to win the crown of life, so it pays to do whatever prep work is necessary to replace motivation with convenience and/or workflow.

So after Lauds, I’ll always turn to the next day’s Lauds and leave the prayer book open on my home altar. (Before Vespers, I bookmark the Lauds page, then pray the evening prayers, and flip back to Lauds. Even if I end without Vespers for a reason, the book’s at the correct page for the next day.)

I’ll also make sure there’s a chair in front of the altar, and switch on the altar light manually at night, so that when I wake up and stagger towards the kitchen the next morning, I inevitably reach out to switch off the altar light, look up at Jesus staring down at me…then sit down and begin my morning prayer without having to figure out which page to start on.

Q: I’m a late sleeper, so I can’t wake up at 6am to pray Lauds. What do I pray then?

Pray Lauds whenever you wake up, then Vespers at the usual evening hour. The exact time of each hour isn’t as critical, especially when your waking hours get complicated, as in…

Q: I’m on shift duty. How can I pray the Divine Office when I’m on night shift, since my hours don’t match the Hours?

There are two options I’ve seen in use:

Option 1: Follow the wall clock. Pray today’s Vespers before you head out for work in the evening, and tomorrow’s Lauds when you return in the morning. It can be a bit jarring at first, but it’s easy to figure out with an Ordo or other prayer timetable.

For night-shift workers, this can also mean praying Compline in the middle of the night, which is quite appropriate as a ward against both physical and spiritual darkness.

Option 2: Follow your internal clock. Lauds before you head out, Vespers when you get back. This is in spiritual harmony with the intent of Lauds to “consecrate to God the first movements of our minds and hearts; no other care should engage us before we have been moved with the thought of God.” (St. Basil the Great) It’s especially appropriate to begin your “day” with the Lauds invitatory: “Lord, open my lips.” Going to bed with Compline’s conclusion of “a quiet night and a perfect end” is also a nicely literal way to finish your “day”, even if the sun’s blazing at “night”.

If you use this option, I recommend that you use the next day’s prayers, e.g. pray Friday’s Lauds and Vespers on your “day” that starts Thursday night. Think of it as “anticipated prayers”; you’re praying in union with the worldwide Church, just a few hours ahead of your local brethren. This also leads to praying a “connected” set of prayers on feasts and solemnities, e.g. praying both Lauds and Vespers of St. John the Baptist together in a “day”, instead of starting with 2nd Vespers of St. John and ending with Lauds of the next day.

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Torn Bread, or True Body?

Posted on June 23, 2019 | Leave a comment

About 30 years ago, I attended an Easter mass at my local college chapel. When I approached the priest to receive Jesus, I was surprised when he placed a torn piece of leavened bread in my hands. Puzzled, I nevertheless put it in my mouth…and it tasted and felt like the rye loaf that I’d recently become a fan of. In fact, I suspected I knew which bakery it came from…

After mass, I approached the priest and asked him what that was about. “Oh, you noticed, eh? I decided to make things more interesting. After all, HE IS RISEN!“

The know-nothing me of that day went, “Oh, haha, good one, Father!”

The older-and-slightly-wiser me of the now…just shudders in horror.

Honestly, the concept of transubstantiation still boggles my mind. I’ve bookmarked and re-read the liturgist Fr. Edward McNamara’s brief comments on the subject, and while I can accept it, I don’t understand it well enough to explain it to others who don’t share that point of view…

“You see, when the priest consecrates the host on the paten and the wine in the chalice, they become the Body and Blood of Christ, even though they still look and taste like bread and wine.”

“But, but, they still look and taste like bread and wine!”

“Well, yeah, that’s kinda the point.”

“Hey, what kind of bullcrap are you trying to sell me?!?! It looks like bread, and tastes like bread, but you’re telling me it’s human flesh?!?!”

“Nononono…well, it did become human flesh at least once that we know of, but…anyway…umm…”

(For a headache-inducing ride, start with the Transubstantiation Wikipedia article, and explore link after link. You have been warned.)

Even priests can have trouble believing this. I wasn’t kidding about the “became human flesh” incident I mentioned earlier: A monk in Lanciano doubted during consecration, and thus triggered the first (and some say the greatest) Eucharistic miracle on record. I’ve seen that Flesh and Blood with my own eyes, and the experience was both wondrous and troubling–“oh my God this really did happen!” followed almost immediately by “oh my God please don’t let that happen in my mouth!”

Little wonder, then, that more than a few of us might harbour grave doubts about transubstantiation, preferring instead to let the mouth utter the obligatory “Amen”, while the head goes “yeah, okay, no biggee, it’s just a host” and the heart goes…missing in action.

And even before that, as we kneel during the Eucharistic prayer, how often do our minds wander as the celebrant utters what to us are simply words of no import?

I too have been guilty of that, dear brothers and sisters, but I’ll testify here and now that when I do pay attention to the words and actions of consecration, when I listen carefully to the entire anaphora, from the Preface of the day to the great Doxology…something shifts deep within, and though my eyes continue to behold white bread, my heart catches a glimmer of the One who died to save us all.

On particularly good days, I cry to myself, quietly shedding a few tears on my knees. The sudden onset of unexplained warmth, of a nearby presence, of LOVE, can be too much to bear.

This is the evidence of one who still lives through it – trustworthy evidence, and he knows he speaks the truth – and he gives it so that you may believe as well.

(cf. John 19:35)

It’s easy to achieve in the midst of a solemn and prayerful anaphora, delivered at a measured pace and with careful attention to enunciation and tone. But this happens all too rarely, especially when the celebrant rushes through the consecration.

So I’m trying something new, and I urge you all to join me in this endeavour. Simply come to church a little earlier, pick up the missal in front of you about five minutes before mass, and read the text of any Eucharistic Prayer…slowly, deliberately, with empty mind and open heart. Imagine the celebrant uttering those same words, evolving in persona Christi into:

Take and eat, for this is My Body.

Not just a simple circle of wheat, but My True Body, broken and pierced as the price for your salvation.

Behold, believe…and be healed.

If we pledge to do this before every mass, carefully pondering the words we thought we understood (or didn’t really care much about), perhaps we can then bring ourselves to truly believe the doctrine of transubstantiation, all the way from our ruthlessly pragmatic brains down to our wounded and fearful hearts.

In that moment, with the sure knowledge that it truly is Jesus before our eyes and on our tongues, who can stand against us? (cf. Romans 8:31)

If you like this post, I encourage you to (re-)read my earlier reflection on how we may be profaning the Blessed Sacrament without careful thought. Indeed, that lack of careful thought (read: an examined conscience) is the crux of the issue.

If not…do leave a barbed comment. Thanks much!

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Taking the Lord’s Body in Vain

Posted on June 17, 2019 | Leave a comment

As we approach the great solemnity of Corpus Christi, I’ve begun to receive a steady stream of articles, old and new, about Eucharistic miracles and desecrations. It’s indeed heartening that many fellow Catholics care enough about the Eucharist to share about it.

But I’m also quite sure that all of us (myself included) have committed Eucharistic sacrilege at least once in our lives, and perhaps even continue to commit it to this day. I speak of receiving Holy Communion while not in a state of grace.

The Catechism of Mother Church covers the subject of receiving Holy Communion in seven whole paragraphs (CCC 1384-1390). In particular:

To respond to this invitation we must prepare ourselves for so great and so holy a moment. St. Paul urges us to examine our conscience: “Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord. Let a man examine himself, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For any one who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment upon himself.” (1 Cor 11:27-29) Anyone conscious of a grave sin must receive the sacrament of Reconciliation before coming to communion.

CCC 1385

Some of us are under a seriously mistaken impression, possibly fostered through inexact or misremembered catechism, that goes something like this:

Communion is an automatic entitlement. Going for mass and not receiving communion is like going for a banquet and refusing to eat anything. It disrespects the host (God) and other guests (our brothers and sisters).

Nothing could be further from the truth. Holy Communion is a privilege afforded those who dwell in the grace of the Lord, not an entitlement to all who cry “Lord! Lord!” Catholic politicians are routinely and publicly denied the Eucharist when they don’t practice what they profess; likewise, we should not receive the transubstantiated Christ with unclean heart, even when no one else knows of our sins.

Jesus knows everything in our hearts and every transgression we’ve committed. When we’re honest enough to admit to Him that:

  • our “spiritual house” is a stinking mess (mortal sin),
  • we haven’t gotten around to “cleaning up the major messes” (confession), and therefore
  • when we say, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof,” (Matthew 8:8) there’s so much truth in it that we’re in spiritual pain,

I’m quite sure He won’t take offence…though others around us might not be as generous.

See, we Catholics are a judgmental lot, despite everything we’ve been taught. Deep down in the secret chambers of our hearts, we see others doing what we disapprove of, like consciously choosing not to join the communion line, and an invisible dagger instantly flies forth from our breast: UNCLEAN SINNER!!!

So what should be our Christian reaction, when we see a fellow Catholic who comes for mass, looks out of sorts throughout the liturgy, and motions us to go past him to receive communion?

Simply this: “Brother, I respect your desire to not profane the Blessed Sacrament, and I’ll pray for your speedy reconciliation and return to our communal banquet with Christ.” Respect and prayer, two things that we could all offer more of in our lives.

We should also make every effort to purify ourselves to receive Jesus in His Real Body. We were instructed to go for confession before our First Holy Communion, all those years ago; as it was then, so should it still be.

And when we miss our chance at needed reconciliation, we should have the courage to treat the Blessed Sacrament with the reverence it deserves, and not receive it unworthily.

For worthy indeed is the Lamb that was slain. Let us always show in deed what our tongues profess, especially when we’re doing it to the Lord Himself.

Lord Jesus, You gave up everything for us. May we never take You in vain, whether in word, deed or body. Amen.

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