It's all grace

Transformation or conversion begins, proceeds, is sustained and finds its fulfillment in God.
It doesn't start with having everything in my life totally in place.
It proceeds by letting grace, God's grace, fill my life and find a home in me.
It is sustained by the certainty that God loves me as I am, with still the many aspects of my life not in place.
Its fulfillment is not the self-assurance that "I made it". No, its fulfillment is being in the heart of God.
For, indeed, everything is grace.

Jesus lights a fire

Fire transforms. From raw to cooked. Gold is purified. Material things turn to ashes.
Contact with fire is never indifferent.
So it is with our relationship with Jesus. If it is true and authentic, we cannot be the same person anymore.

God-centered

Today's Gospel was the Conversion of Saint Paul. The priest very wisely reminded us that conversion is first of all interior, allowing God to be the Lord of my life. What is seen on the outside is a natural consequence of the change within.
Perhaps the reason why my many resolutions fail within a day or two is that I focus more on the right thing to do, the right thng to say, the right thing to feel. Instead, I should be more focused on who is really the "hinge" that moves me.
What happened to Saint Paul is what happens to us when we allow God to take hold of our heart. There is no room for volunteerism, only for waiting, for opening ourselves to receive God as pure gift. Our weaknesses, our relapses will not frighten us, because we give up our agenda, we renounce the desire to have control.
And when we are no longer focused on "being" good and in "doing" good, but just on God, that is conversion. It is when we really start to be good and to do good.

Conversion

It is easy to criticize others for their abuse of power; but what about us when we treat others as subordinate to us? What do we do with our "powers", our capacity to influence, the esteem (and fear) others have towards us? Are we willing to give them up? Are we ready not to be needed and feel useful? How do we respond when others malign us or put the worst interpretation of who we are, and of what we say and do?
If we are truthful about it, there is in our hearts the desire for power, to have a certain edge over someone, no matter how small this edge might be. Acknowledging this is the first step to purification, to realize that corruption is not outside but within us, to see that conversion begins first of all in ourselves.

A Christmas carol

The other day I watched the film "A Christmas Carol". It's a classic, and watching it made me reflect on certain things.
The ghost of Christmas past. It made Scrooge reminisce his past. You feel sort of sorry for the neglected boy who turned out to be the arch-enemy of Christmas, Ebenezer Scrooge.
Who we are today is greatly influenced by our past. It might be helpful to remember this in order to have more compassion towards people.
The ghost of Christmas present. It made Scrooge see the lives of the people who presently come in and out of his everyday life.
No man is an island. Being human means being related to people. Our deeds, misdeeds and omissions have repercussions on the lives of the people closest to us, as their lives have consequences on the lives of others. We can say that every deed, misdeed or omission has a ripple effect. It makes me remember the film "Pay it forward".
The ghost of Christmas future. It made Scrooge have a vision of what will be in the future. Scrooge asked the ghost if what he has seen "will be" or "might be".
It is never too late to change. Yes, our past has a great impact on who we are today, but if we just try to be honest and to see our life now in terms of its effects on others, or on that good person that we are deep within our hearts, we can always change and go through the road of conversion.
Thanks, Ebenezer Scrooge. I guess this is your life's message for me now.
"God bless us, everyone."

Never the same

Every person, at one time or another, goes through a "Humpty Dumpty" experience, when the world, as it is known, suddenly crashes and "all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty Dumpty together again".
This experience normally catches one by surprise, though, as one looks back, there may have already been signs along the way.
When the Humpty Dumpty experience happens, the first reaction is to ask oneself: Where did I go wrong? What didn't I do right? Why did this happen to me?
Then follows the frantic attempt to re-create the lost world, to try to put back things as they were. But, somehow, one finds out that the pieces of the puzzle don't fit anymore. You suddenly get the insight that, no matter how hard you try, it won't work, that any attempt is futile.
But your heart is afraid to surrender because, after all, the old world, despite its imperfections, is the only world you know.
Then daily life becomes a battleground:
between resistance and abandonment;
between holding on and letting go;
between self-blame and compassion;
between resentment and gratitude;
between despair and moving on.
It will take time before one finally reaches a certain level of equilibrium, when you start to see life in a realistic way, but with hope.
And there will still be moments of uncertainty, but that is okay because they remind you that this life is not our permanent home.
Yes, you will heal, but you're never the same.

A blank checque for Jesus

Yesterday, the solemnity of the Annunciation, we had a beautiful spiritual reading about Mary as "house". One line stands out to me particularly: "We become what dwells within us".
I remember Jesus' words that it is not what enters a person's mouth that makes one clean or unclean, rather, it is what comes out, because it is from the abundance of the heart that the mouth speaks.
If I allow God to dwell in my heart, He will change me. He will transform my mind, my sentiments, my words, my gestures according to His own style.
Actually I am already immersed in God's presence. As Saint Patrick's Breastplate Prayer says: "Christ be with me, Christ within me, Christ behind me, Christ before me, Christ beside me ... Christ beneath me, Christ above me". The step that I am called to make is to be aware of this Presence. To be aware that He is present is to allow Him to dwell in my heart, since it is in my heart where I store that which I treasure most.
Jesus Christ will transform me. I just need to be docile in His hands.
This docility would require great faith and courage. It's like giving Christ my life as a blank checque.
But so far, Jesus has never failed me. He hasn't made my life easy or successful by worldly standards, but I am still sane and capable of kindness. And I think that says a lot.

In the desert

With the Spirit's help, I would really like to live this Lenten season "in the desert", bereft of my securities. I read somewhere that the desert is the place of the essentials.
With the passing of the years, my life has become complicated: so many knots, so many gray areas, so many rationalizations. Sometimes it is hard for me to see and to recognize my own values and convictions.

What or who do I hold dearest in my life?
I know that I have made a lot of decisions, big and small, that were dictated by convenience and utility - because I wanted to fit in, because that was expected of me, because I did not want to offend, because I just wanted to end the discussion, because I did not want to get hurt, etc., etc.

What are the securities that I have accumulated?
My experience of these past two years has made me realize that these so-called securities are false. Indeed, they make me feel more insecure because I hold on and I cling to them so desperately, and so I lose my freedom and spontaneity.

So, welcome to this 40-day desert experience. I know that by myself, I cannot do it.

The desert is not some exotic place we see in postcards. It is a place of hostile forces.
When the howling winds of my mistakes haunt me,
When the scorching heat of rejection and judgment is unbearable,
When the cold nights of solitude are just too much,
When the lack of water and other things I used to rely on make me crippled and desperate...
When these temptations call me to turn back, I need a deep Center, Someone who will stay with me through it all, so that I may enter the land of freedom, the Promised Land.

Jesus is that deep Center. He will walk with me through the desert and lead me to freedom.

On loving myself

Coming from a third world and a formerly colonized country, I've always looked up to first world / western countries and their people.

When I was a child, it was always a treat for us when relatives from abroad, especially from the US, came bringing stuff from these countries.
On the other hand, being born and having grown up in the city, I "felt" a certain superiority over my relatives living in the province. It wasn't really something conscious on my part. It was part of life and custom then.
I guess, in a way, it has influenced my way of looking at myself and my attitudes and behavior. To people who were "superior" to me, I was with a certain deference; while to those who were "inferior", I exhibited a certain haughtiness or snobbishness, or I tended to be patronizing.
I am called to conversion in this area.
First, I have to let the truth, which I believe in, that "we are all equal; we are all beloved children of the Father", to sink from my head to my heart, so that it would penetrate my whole being and change my behavior.
Second, I need to allow God to love me. I need to bask in this unconditional love that is freely given to me. I think, despite the many moments I've spent in reflection and in prayer, I haven't really believed in this truth. It will take time since my mind, my whole way of looking at the world, have been influenced by the world's idea that "everything has to be earned". Believing in God's unconditional and freely offered love is my only salvation. This is what will liberate me from the tendency to be a people-pleaser, from letting myself be at the mercy of people and of events, from unjustly expecting that people and events dance to my tune so that I will be okay.
Third, I have to realistically accept myself. I am a good person; yet, I am still a person-becoming. I have the tendency to avoid conflict because I've always believed that it is very difficult to repair something already broken. This leads me, unconsciously, to "buy people" or to "hide my own feelings and opinion".
But in life, conflict is inevitable. It could even be a doorway to growth.
A little humor will certainly be helpful in this area. My life is not a telenovela. There are lousy days, and they are part of life, so I need not exaggerate about them.
In relation to this, as a first concrete step, I have changed my desktop with a lighter-color-motif. Maybe it is also time to change my blog theme. Let's see.
Hope is beckoning me.

Community life, our furnace

Life in community does not keep the darkness away. To the contrary. It seems that the light that attracted me to L'Arche also made me conscious of the darkness in myself. Jealousy, anger, the feeling of being rejected or neglected, the sense of not truly belonging - all of these emerged in the context of a community striving for a life of forgiveness, reconciliation, and healing. Community life has opened me up to the real spiritual combat: the struggle to keep moving toward the light precisely when the darkness is so real.
As long as I lived by myself, it seemed rather easy to keep the elder son hidden from view. But the sharing of life with people who are not hiding their feelings soon confronted me with the elder son within. There is little romanticism to community life. There is the constant need to keep stepping out of the engulfing darkness onto the platform of the father's embrace.

From "The Return of the Prodigal Son" by Henri Nouwen

From the other side

I had lunch with two Sisters yesterday, one of whom is a very wise person. One of the topics of our conversation was the presence of some Sisters who are so attentive that their actions tend to exasperate the objects of their attention. She said that she believes that most of them really do what they do with goodness of heart. However, it is the exaggeration that tends to suffocate and turn people off.
Then we talked about her family and how, being the youngest, she had too much attention from everybody, that until now, during their family gatherings, she has to remind them that she is already a grown-up lady. It could be one reason why she detests this exaggerated attention.
I told her that I am grateful for this sharing. It enabled me to look at myself from another perspective. You see, I am one who tends to exaggerate. Being the eldest in the family, I had certain responsibilities. Perhaps, in many ways, I have conformed my way of thinking, speaking, behaving and doing things, to what is expected of an eldest. Being the eldest is one of the major factors that have influenced the shaping of my personality.
I am not making a judgment here. I just got this insight from this sharing of my Sister. I suddenly got a view of myself from the other side. Yes, it is possible that what I consider as small gestures of affection through which I want to show my love concretely, could be suffocating, controlling and smothering.
It is really important to listen and to take a step back. It is necessary to try, as much as possible, to be clear about my motivations. Others are entitled to their own interpretation and judgment. I should try to enter into dialogue, if possible, to arrive at the best possible clarification.
It is not an easy process. It necessitates great humility to see myself with sincerity, according to what is deep in my heart. It requires courage to look in the face and accept the mistakes, the subterfuges, the judgments. It asks me to have great hope that I am always in the making. I try, I fail, I try again.
This is a lifelong process.

Everything is gift

"But things slowly change. Ulcers heal, the scars disappear; first the physical ones, and later, much more slowly, the emotional ones. You feel strength again and old friends and old circles begin to open up again.
Health returns but it is different. Some of the old self-confidence is gone, replaced by a new sense of vulnerability and relativity that is immensely freeing.
You realize more clearly what is gift and what is earned. You know that you, on your own, cannot guarantee your own health, nor your attractiveness and desirability in love and friendship.
Stripped naked, weakened, and greatly humbled, you stop fighting, first because you are defeated, but later, when strength and resources return, because you realize that there is no reason to fight.
Life, health, love, it is all pure gift! You take less for granted and your old need to perform, to achieve, to dominate, to possess and impress, to win by effort what can only be received as gift, has been dealt a blow. It is painful, but freeing: painful because you realize that there is so little you can do; freeing because you realize that there is so little you have to do.
You begin to beg for conversion (even as you sense how difficult it is) because you would want to transvaluate all your values and priorities, your whole self, and begin life anew."

(Fr. Ronald Rolheiser, OMI)

Holy darkness

Our painful experiences make us persons of depth, give us wisdom, make us more compassionate, and expose the constant need we have of purification.
"Though Jesus' love seems like a raging storm, it is the love that saves." In time we will understand, or, when we don't understand, it's all the better because it helps us to realize that we need God.

A parable for all

This coming Sunday's Gospel reading is from Luke 15:1-3, 11-32, famously entitled the Parable of the Prodigal Son. Here are some parts of a comment I found very interesting:

At different times in our lives, most of us have played each of these roles: that of the doting, loving, apparently overindulgent parent; that of the younger son who experiences being brought low by sinfulness and pride, and desperately in need of mercy; the older son, who is responsible and above reproach, and who is frustrated by the generosity and leniency with which the weaknesses and sins of others are dealt with.
This deeply moving parable highlights two of Luke's characteristic emphases: God's welcome of sinners and those considered socially and religiously unacceptable, and the rejoicing and celebration that are meant to accompany that welcome, that are meant to respond to the repentance that God invites.
The generous father of both sons welcomes back the youth who squandered his inheritance but does not repudiate the older son who protests the father's prodigality yet remains faithful to him. "Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours" (v 31). The restoration of the son who "was dead and has come to life" who "was lost and has been found" (v 32), does not invalidate the fidelity of the older son. The younger son, restored to the father's household, must make a new beginning in the life of fidelity. Reconciled to God, both sons must work out together their reconciliation with each other.
Does the elder son finally make peace with his brother and welcome him back? Does he find it in his heart to forgive, and to share in the father's rejoicing? Or does he, in the final accounting, find himself even more alienated than his younger brother had been? Where is the mother in this story? What was her response? We are left hoping for a conclusion that Jesus never provides. That's what parables are all about: They invite us to enter into the story and to find the answers in our own lives and times.
The parable of "The Wayward Son" or "The Prodigal Father" or the "Indignant Elder Brother" can cause much grief for us, as we see ourselves and our motives exposed for what they really are. The prodigal Father squanders his own love on our pettiness, our meanness, our diffidence, and our arrogance.

Fr. Thomas Rosica, CSB

God's patience

Yesterday's Gospel is a very challenging one for me, in terms of the God that I believe in. In fact, the reading guide entitles it "Repent or perish".

The God I believe in is Love that knows no bounds. It's not just an idea of mine but Scripture itself confirms this:

For this is how God loved the world: he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. (John 3:16)

There are so many other Scripture texts that show the same face of God.

How then can I understand this text of Luke 13:1-9. I am not an exegete, but in my everyday life, the Word of God gives me nourishment. I hope that it is not superstition, but in difficult times, it is God's promises that give me hope or a new lease on life. God's Word may not give me the answer to a pressing question, but It definitely helps me to hang on or to view the question from another perspective.

Well then, what is the message for me of this Lucan text? God is always patient. His patience knows no bounds. The "one more year" mentioned here in the text is not the literal one year according to our time measurement. The one year here is our "limited time" here on earth. God continues to nourish us and to give us what we need to attain true joy. He does His part but we have to do ours. When our "time is up" and we have to be "cut off", it is not that God has condemned us or has stopped dealing with us kindly; rather, it is we who have hardened ourselves, refusing His invitation to joy and fullness of life.

In the end, it is not He who condemns us, but we who condemn ourselves by choosing a pattern of refusing His love. Nothing in life is improvised. The daily no's that we say to God's love hardens our heart and leaves it closed to God's all-pervading kindness.