Spiritus Sanctus

Saturday of the 4th Week of Lent
Jeremiah 11:18-20 | Psalm 7:2-3,9-12 | John 7:40-52

Prophets do not come out of Galilee. (John 7:52)

We tend to make snap judgements about others’ abilities, based on their declared backgrounds. In my consulting career, I’ve often had to stop myself from summarily terminating a job interview after a quick glance at the interviewee’s CV, instead trying to find a “jewel in the rough” who might complement my client’s existing team.

Of course, it’s often the case that the candidate simply won’t work out, but just as prophets have come out of Galilee (Jonah comes to mind), an unimpressive résumé may hide a keen mind who would be an asset to my client.

Likewise, one thing that drives me each night in Lectio Divina is finding that “jewel in the rough” from my experiences during the day. Perhaps it’s a chance encounter with the less fortunate, or a misreading of a HUGE poster outside a shopping mall:

Yes, Lord, help me make a playground of all the TRIALS I face,
instead of moaning and groaning about the unfairness of it all.

Whatever it might be, when the next day’s scripture triggers that memory, it’s as if God is gently tapping me on the shoulder and whispering, “see how much love and joy can be in your life?”

How can I keep from writing?

My life flows on in endless song;
Above earth’s lamentation,
I hear the real, tho’ far-off hymn
That hails a new creation;
Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear that music ringing;
It sounds an echo in my soul—
How can I keep from singing?

Amen.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AH72dgNSAsw

Friday of the 4th Week of Lent
Wisdom 2:1,12-22 | Psalm 33(34):16,18,19-21,23 | John 7:1-2,10,25-30

Look at our colleague there, all smiles and kindness to everyone else, when we’re all up to our eyeballs in work. Bloody bastard, he’s got no right to make us all look so sad! Let’s tekan him and dump all our work in his inbox, then we can relax and go for a coffee break. Must remember to take credit for all that work when we get back, hor?

Raise your hand if you’ve been the target of such a concerted backstabbing.

Now raise your hand if you’ve participated in such things yourself. (Be honest about it.)

It can be a tough pill to swallow, to see others keep their spirits up through all their toil and trouble, while we suffer through the same tasks with furrowed brow and down-turned lips. That’s just not fair; they should suffer just like we do. We don’t care that they have a better attitude towards life that we do, it’s all about equality of suffering, man!

The good man is a light in the darkness for the upright, but he is also a reproof to those who continue to cling to the old ways of slavish adherence to outdated interpretations. The Pharisees certainly didn’t like to hear Jesus claim that God was displeased by their hidebound practice of Mosaic Law; after all, they took great pride in just how many laws they could keep “faithfully”.

Just yesterday, I was introduced to this intriguing article about how adopting the Benedict Option as a counter to the insidious permeation of American pop culture in Christian life:

[which] includes such measures as: stable local living in small intentional Christian communities—“the Christian village”; cutting back on pop culture consumption; orienting the family towards God; creating sacramentally vibrant worship; pulling the kids out of public school and educating them classically either through private school, home school, or co-op; practicing hospitality and Christian neighborliness; buying from other Christians even if it costs more; building Christian employment networks; refusing to compromise to satisfy the whims of the young; fighting pornography—the list goes on. In short: avoid vice, and take up virtue.

can seriously backfire, when it devolves into a game of one-upmanship among the very people who “set themselves apart” to be more faithful to God, a Christian version of a “purity test”.

I wonder if something similar happened to the Jews in the years before Christ, building a corpus of 613 commandments, then using it as a measuring rod of individual worthiness. It would certainly explain the prominence of the Pharisees as opposition to our Messiah.

So then next time we find ourselves reacting negatively to those who express joy in doing what the Lord commands, perhaps we should stop and think hard about why we don’t feel the same way.

After all, as the old hymn reminds us:

Joyful and trusting, we come to You, O Lord,
Ready to give all to you.

Amen.

Thursday of the 4th Week of Lent
Exodus 32:7-14 | Psalm 105(106):19-23 | John 5:31-47

How can you believe,
since you look to one another for approval
and are not concerned
with the approval that comes from the one God? (John 5:44)

Likes. Views. Upvotes (and downvotes). Unlocked achievements. Shares.

These are just some of the ways that we quantify our popularity online. Many of us hate to admit it, but they play a very significant role in influencing our online persona, and not necessarily for the better.

For instance, “telling it like it is” is surprisingly popular, even though it would seem that being explicitly rude to others, voicing opinions liberally sprinkled with obscenities, isn’t something that should be tolerated, online or otherwise. It’s especially troubling that Catholic online communities have to regularly remind their members to “Be Nice, Be Respectful”.

We also instinctively share rumours and “miracle cures” and stories that tug at the heartstrings, all in a secret chase for online approval, without stopping to think whether the words we share even make sense, or spend a few seconds checking online to see if they’ve been debunked. All that matters is the likes, so Like This Post If You Love God, People!

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But seriously, don’t like this post if you love God.

Comment on this post if you love God.

Share your own perspective on the words I write, on the spiritual positions I take, on whether you think I speak Truth, a big fat Lie, or something in between.

Start a conversation on what you think I should improve, and perhaps even share what you think you should improve too.

Don’t show your approval. Show your understanding, through opinions and stories about how God has spoken to you throughout your life.

Show how anything I’ve written has helped you draw closer to God, and share in turn how you think I can do likewise.

Let’s not seek approval from each other.

Let’s seek approval from the One Who Is.

Amen.

Wednesday of the 4th Week of Lent
Isaiah 49:8-15 | Psalm 144(145):8-9,13b-14,17-18 | John 5:17-30

I can do nothing by myself;
I can only judge as I am told to judge,
and my judging is just,
because my aim is to do not my own will,
but the will of him who sent me.’ (John 5:30)

It’s easy to recognize the people who do things with little will.

They’ll be radiating an air of “I don’t want to be here, but I was told I needed to do this, so don’t bother me, and we’ll be fine”.

They’ll put in only enough effort to get the job done to minimum standards, and clearly lack enthusiasm.

They’ll quickly abandon their work thereafter, instead of taking some measure of pride in a job well done.

We all know people like this in our lives: colleagues, service personnel, perhaps even clergy. Decades of ministering to people, who are themselves going through the Christian motions, can sap the energy and will out of pretty much anyone.

But that’s when our will is involved, the will that says “I’m not getting anything useful out of this, so don’t expect much from me”.

When the Father’s will comes to the fore, it’s quite a different story. To consciously align our will with God’s makes our actions that much smoother, when “what if this happens, or that doesn’t happen?” is replaced with “here I am, Lord, to do Thy will, so lead me where Thou wilt”.

Jesus Himself makes it plain in today’s Gospel, and in many other instances in scripture, what His posture towards the Father was, and what our own posture should be:

Lord, Your will be done. Give us the will to do Your will with all our heart, and soul, and strength. For the kingdom, the power and the glory are Yours, now and forever. Amen.

Tuesday of the 4th Week of Lent
Ezekiel 47:1-9,12 | Psalm 45(46):2-3,5-6,8-9 | John 5:1-3,5-16

One man there had an illness which had lasted thirty-eight years, and when Jesus saw him lying there and knew he had been in this condition for a long time, he said, ‘Do you want to be well again?’ (John 5:5-6)

What an odd question: Do you want to be well again? Who wouldn’t?

Well, what if “being well again” meant giving up something that’s defined your life for the last 38 years–or more? What if it’s something that doesn’t cause you pain like the man in today’s Gospel, but does hurt the people around you?

What if “being well again” meant you would no longer be able to gossip, or assert your authority with harsh words, or get away with hurting others by claiming that “I’ve always been like this, can’t be helped, don’t take what I say so personally lah”?

If you were offered the “cure”, would you really want to be well again?

Because Jesus has been offering to cure us since we first knew Him.

Why are we still hesitating?

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Righteous anger has long been my Achilles heel. I’ve always hesitated when a small amount of harshness might forestall a bad situation, to the point when things get so bad that I blow my top publicly. “Sweetness and light” is pretty much my motto, but that also leaves me looking rather spineless, and so I become less effective with each passing week in uniting my choir members in harmonious song.

So why would I hesitate to accept a “cure”? Because, in the depths of my heart, I greatly fear that I would then slowly become the very person I described above, heedless of others’ feelings in my continual wielding of rapier wit and cutting remarks. It would be hell on earth for me to despise myself every single day.

Clearly, I still haven’t attained complete trust in God, that He knows what’s best for me, even if I feel His “medicine” actually makes things worse.

Perhaps that’s the cure I need from Him: the willingness to abandon myself completely to Him, not just in meaningless words, but with the totality of mind and heart.

Lord, You’ve searched my heart, and You know me. Help me truly trust that You always have the best in mind for me, even when I’m feeling besieged, alone and helpless. Help me truly trust that You’ve always been beside me, and that You will continue to accompany me till my time is through. Give me the wisdom to discern Your will, and the confidence to carry it out against all opposition. Amen.