Spiritus Sanctus

Thursday of the 5th Week of Lent
Genesis 17:3-9 | Psalm 104(105):4-9 | John 8:51-59

I will establish my Covenant between myself and you, and your descendants after you, generation after generation, a Covenant in perpetuity, to be your God and the God of your descendants after you. (Genesis 17:7)

Don’t worry, I’ll get it done by tomorrow…

I promise to be true to you, in good times and in bad…

I firmly resolve, with the help of Your grace, to make amends for my transgressions, and turn away from sin…

In the words of a popular song from my youth:

You made me promises, promises
Knowing I’d believe
Promises, promises
Why do I believe?

God instead makes covenants, bonds between Him and His people. We uphold our end of these covenants by being faithful to His Word, and working to bring forth His Kingdom by sharing that faith with others.

As we approach the Week of Our Lord’s Passion, let us renew the Abrahamic Covenant with God in our hearts, by pledging to live as His children, in as true a fashion as we can manage, and turning to and trusting His Son Jesus Christ, to lead us in the path of salvation and reunion with the I AM.

Let us make this a promise we actually want to uphold for the rest of our lives.

Amen.

Wednesday of the 5th Week of Lent
Daniel 3:14-20,91-92,95 | Daniel 3:52-56 | John 8:31-42

Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego replied to King Nebuchadnezzar, ‘Your question hardly requires an answer: if our God, the one we serve, is able to save us from the burning fiery furnace and from your power, O king, he will save us; and even if he does not, then you must know, O king, that we will not serve your god or worship the statue you have erected.’ (Daniel 3:16-18)

While riding the train to my client’s office yeaterday, I spied two young Mormon missionaries proselytizing to the folks near me.

This should be interesting, I thought. I wonder how our encounter would go.

They eventually finished with the person next to me, so I quickly prepared an “opening statement”, something along the lines of “Am I saved? Yes, brothers, since the day I was born!”…and then they walked right past me to talk to the fellow commuter on my other side!

I looked down at myself. My crucifix and medallion were still tucked inside my polo T-shirt, invisible to any observer. I’d also finished praying my daily rosary long before they came within line-of-sight, so there was no outward sign I could think of that would cause them to “give up” on me.

Huh. Maybe next time.

Then it hit me: Not so long ago, I would’ve exited the train at the earliest opportunity, just to avoid interacting with missionaries of any sort.

I’ve yet to attain the spiritual confidence of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, who faced a grim choice between apostasy and fiery death, but at least I am willing to quietly talk about my own beliefs to anyone willing to listen.

✞ ✞ ✞ ✞ ✞

There’s another reason why the story of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego resonates with me today. Oddly enough, it has to do with music.

After they were thrown in the furnace, the angel of the Lord arrived to protect them from the intense heat that killed even those who threw them in. They then sang a song of glory and praise to God in Daniel 3:51-90, which Marty Haugen used as inspiration for All You Works of God, and a portion of which forms today’s responsorial psalm.

It’s a song I first learned in college, and we used to sing it at random times around the liturgical year. Though I’ve not sung it in public worship since then, it’s always had a place in my heart, and you can be sure I’ll be singing it in my head come Holy Saturday.

Amen.

Tuesday of the 5th Week of Lent
Numbers 21:4-9 | Psalm 101(102):2-3,16-21 | John 8:21-30

The Israelites left Mount Hor by the road to the Sea of Suph, to skirt the land of Edom. On the way the people lost patience. (Numbers 21:4)

“Are we there yet?” Thus goes the all-too-familiar refrain of children thrilled at the thought of going someplace wonderful, but bored to tears by the never-ending journey. It becomes even more incongruous, when we remember that the Israelites spent a Very Long Time (nominally 40 years) wandering in the desert, contending with the parched heat and the lack of food.

We too will be spending many years making our way towards a jubilant reunion with the Father, and the journey will likely be more hardship than hallelujah. Do we complain about it?

✞ ✞ ✞ ✞ ✞

Just within the past few days, a funeral in my extended family, an invitation to a dinner hosted by St. Joseph’s Dying Aid Society, and several friends’ personal health scares, have reminded me of our tenuous hold on life in this mortal coil.

It’s prompted me to take stock of the last half-century of my own existence, of all my fabulous finishes and faceplant failings, but especially of my meandering journey of faith along the Camino di Dios (the Way of God),

of the many times I’ve left the paved road of everlasting life, to wander off into the weeds of darkness and sin,

of the many times I’ve clambered over the guard rails of Bible and Catechism, only to tumble down the steep ravines of temptation,

but especially of the many people that God brought into my daily life, who have lifted me up, dusted me off, and sent me back up onto the pathway of salvation.

Patience is indeed a virtue, and death will come in due course, but until it does, we would do well to heed the warnings of sacred scripture, and spend each day in prayer and contemplation of our received faith traditions, so as not to get lost in the spiritual wilderness.

Amen.

Monday of the 5th Week of Lent
Daniel 13:1-9,15-17,19-30,33-62 | Psalm 22(23) | John 8:1-11

‘If there is one of you who has not sinned, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.’ (John 8:7)

Condemnation has to be one of the typical Singaporean’s favourite pastimes, perhaps second only to complaining about everything under the sun. After all, it’s only logical to go from:

Ai yah, Qing Ming again, now got traffic jam outside church!

to:

See lah, Traffic Police not doing their jobs, lazy bums!

Would that we could open our eyes to the reality of the situation, and admit to ourselves that when hundreds of vehicles converge into a small area, fed by a major artery that’s itself constricted by MRT works, no human agency can ensure a smooth flow.

‘Neither do I condemn you,’ said Jesus ‘go away, and do not sin any more.’ (John 8:11)

✞ ✞ ✞ ✞ ✞

The phrasing of today’s Gospel interests me in two ways:

• Jesus doesn’t question the accused. He already knows what she has done, and sees no reason to shame her in righteous anger.
• The accused doesn’t defend herself. She too knows what she has done, and is willing to accept whatever justice is meted out.

As we embark on Penitential Service week, let us remember that Everyone Sins. Sometimes we commit venial sins, sometimes mortal ones.

Do we dare to discern our own faults, or continue to pretend they don’t exist?

Do we dare to bare our souls completely to Christ in the person of His priest, or continue to hold back on admitting the Big Sins for fear of human and divine condemnation?

Do we dare to seek forgiveness for all our transgressions, or continue to quietly castigate ourselves for not being perfect?

And as we go forth from reconciling ourselves to God…

Do we dare to discern the good from the bad in the people we interact with each day, and gently guide them in God’s Holy Way, without condemning them mentally or verbally?

Lord, You call us to draw closer to You, to open our hearts to You, to admit our faults and seek Your forgiveness. Help us to abandon ourselves willingly to Your merciful love, confident that You have already discerned our faults but still don’t condemn us. We place our trust in You, for You are our Lord forever and ever. Amen.

Brothers and sisters, I started my daily Lectio Divina journey exactly one year ago today. Looking back, I still remember my initial enthusiasm, and while the initial bonfire has mellowed somewhat into a warming blaze, I still look forward each night to reading, pondering, and sharing.

With the grace of God, may there be another year’s worth, then another, and so on, till the day I can no longer share my faith in this mortal realm.

Until that day, orate et laudate (pray and praise).

5th Sunday of Lent (Year A)
Ezekiel 37:12-14 | Psalm 129(130) | John 11:1-45

Today’s scripture is all about rising from the dead, an appropriate thing to look forward to as we approach both Holy Week and the start of Lenten Penitential Services.

The Lord longs to “open our graves” (Ezekiel 37:12), and lead us back to the “soil of Israel”, the land of righteousness and love. He calls us to meet up halfway, through the Sacrament of Reconciliation.

Each time I go for monthly confession before mass, I feel the relief of a sinful load I never realized I was carrying. It still troubles me that, after so many iterations, I still don’t feel that burden in my daily life. It’s only when I come to reconcile myself with Christ, and prepare myself by examining all that has happened during the weeks before, that I truly realize just how often I’ve gone astray, and how much of a price I’d unwittingly paid, through unnecessary conflict with others, the fear of being found out, and an uneasy rest in the night.

The first few times were somewhat scary, but once I got used to being honest with myself about my own failings, it became much easier to admit to Jesus, in the person of a priest, that I had transgressed and longed for healing absolution.

As we prepare ourselves to walk with Jesus and relive His glorious Passion, let us cast off all our yokes of sinfulness, refresh our spirits with the cleansing waters that flow from the right side of the Temple that is the Lamb of God, and wander back onto His Holy Way.

Amen.